take one woman with low self esteem, but quite good hair
add one moronic illness
stir in some medication which causes hair to fall out
mix it all up and this is what you get...

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Ugly head reared 

It was always there, lurking in the background, just popping its head around the corner from time to time. Not often enough to put me off my primary task of being ill and getting better, but just enough to prod me every now and again, saying "Remember me? You're going to have to think about me sooner or later, you know...". Yes, I know. Not just yet.

Work, you see. That thing I normally do nine to five, Monday to Friday, two hundred and thirty odd days per year, give or take.

I must say, as strange as this may seem, my current arrangement of spending my days at home with Big (by happy coincidence, on Easter holiday since my discharge from hospital), indulging my artistic side, eating in, eating out, just general eating (yep, the steroids are still at it), walking, talking, having little days out, reading and relaxing is rather more appealing. Funny that.

But my time is running out. Signed off for six weeks from initial diagnosis of my condition, this means in theory that I am due to start work again on Monday, April 23rd (which also happens to be my birthday, which is "nice" (where "nice" = not very nice actually)). In theory. However, I find myself in a bit of a complicated situation.

Before falling ill, I had only been in my new job for two months. Just prior to my illness, Big accepted his new job. We will be leaving this town in the summer and making our way back to the South Coast. Those are facts.

I have to ask myself:
  1. What benefit is there to me if I return to work for, what, two months?
    Only financial

  2. What benefit is there to my employer if I return to work for, say, two months?
    Very little, if one considers that I am still learning, still a drain on resources, still not entirely productive

On the other side of the coin, there is my health and wellbeing. Whilst I am now feeling pretty much back to normal, my body and I have been through one hell of a shock and we both need time to recover properly. We have a house to sell and to move out of and new accommodation to sort out - these things suggest the potential for stress and working full time alongside dealing with these things could tip the balance away from my health and wellbeing.

I am lucky enough to be able to afford not to work for a couple of months. Things may be a little tight, but nothing we can't handle.

And so I've decided. Work can just jolly well sod right off. I am more important.

So there!
*pokes tongue out at work and blows raspberry*

My boss knows my plans and is currently digesting the information. I imagine I'm probably not flavour of the month at the moment...

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