I woke up feeling as if I'd tried to swallow a golf ball and it getting stuck in my throat, which isn't a very pleasant feeling. And adding that to the fact that I spent yesterday afternoon feeling feverish and not really with it - I decided to stay home for today.
It probably would have been easier to just go in, faint and be sent home than phoning in. Phoning to the actual team I work with wasn't difficult (they saw how I was yesterday) but to the sickness-manager... Jeez, it was like the Spanish Inquisition, which I wasn't prepared for (I'd just got out of bed). He probably though I was faking it, which I am not - I need the money and as I've been employed for less than 6 months I don't get any pay whatsoever when I'm ill.
Anyway, am trying to find an entry on perezhilton.com that I read/listened to a while ago. It was a really lovely song... but it's literally a needle in a haystack among all the crap about various celebs' eating-/cheating- and all other disorders known to man.
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