No, I didn't get fired, no my mouth didn't get me in trouble, and no I didn't hit anyone OR start anything on fire.
Thanks a lot assholes, for
I got sent home because I've been hacking up my lungs all week, thanks to airplanes/toddlers/sick relatives/cold/typhoidsomethingorother. Let's be clear. I've been sick since New Year's Day. I've been on the mend, really, all this week,and have been at work all week.
I got sent home today because my cube-neighbor has the actual fever-ishy-flu, and since she's NOT in the office and I'm still coughing like the mucinex dudes are partying down in my lungs I was politely told to get out. I am typhoid Jess by default, and that's sort of amusing.
And so I did. Spent my afternoon napping (hey, they sent me home to "get well" right? Wellness = naps, people), until I got the MOST AWESOME EMAIL EVER from someone who randomly found my blog through Nora Roberts' blog. (No, I don't know Nora Roberts...believe me, if I did I'd drop it into almost every conversation because knowing her personally would almost be as cool as Dwayne Johnson or Gerard Butler showing up at my door.) Nora Roberts wrote a piece on her public blog about shitty trolling internet trolls who harass writers/artists, and I agreed with her "bite me" approach. Anyway, it's neither here nor there.
The neat bit for me, is that said random person found my blog via that comment, read some, and went to the effort of emailing me personally to say unbelievably kind things about my writing.
And that, people, made my whole goddamned week.
Luckily, the Universe which provides me with random pick-me-ups also ensures appropriate humility:
|Um, HELLO. Get your hand off that keyboard.|
|Can't you see I MUST SING?|
I'll be sure to invite you to his opera debut.
In the meantime, I'm recycling last year's Dragon calendar by using the art as writing prompts for 12 written scenes/short stories. Because why not add to the project list?