It seemed she and other workers at this palce had noticed my rapid-fire typing and thought it unusual. I guess it is. Or is it? I don’t even know. But here I am sitting in the break room at my job where I’ve noticed people observing me do this. I guess most folks here do not spend their off-work moments pecking out 10,000 words of mellifluous drivel. At most I hear people gab on the phone or see them reading books but I don’t see anyone typing.
I’ve been reading Sylvia Plath again, from the beginning — 1959. Carnivals of words. Her early stuff seems to be all about picture-painting. Did she really have a bum eye? She wrote about getting something stuck in her eye and seeing swirls of blur because of it. Was that chronic?
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I had ot leave work early ON Saturday with an anxiety thing. I was handed some papers for me to fill out and have signed by a medical professional. Something about Family Medical Leave Application, I think? I didn’t really look at it, thinking it just a formality. I do not expect to leave work early on account of anxiety on any kind of regular basis. But this paperwork appeared to set a precedent for allowing it to happen without censure.
Alas, I was rejected, leaving me asking the simple question: Why did I and why did anybody here waste their time with this? I spent half my day off getting the doctor’s appointment out of the way and getting the dude to sign off on it. He was happy to do it, mind you. Unlike a previous PCP he didn’t ask a lot of suspicious questions or impugn my dignity by implying I may have character flaws.
In fact that doctor visit was a blockbuster fo rme. I left feeling spent from multiple mental orgasms.
But that’s a bonus.
I was rejected FMLA for having not worked 1300 hours, or something like that. This leaves my exit from work on Saturday categorized as AWOL. That’s great. I’ll keep the pills at the always-ready.
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