Have you ever had a day where the bad just kept piling up until it made you wonder if you were born to be some cosmic toilet for a being with diarrhea because the universe just kept crapping on you and wouldn't stop? Yes, that was the day I just had. I realize I'm being overdramatic, but really I could use a drink. Only I can't. Because that would be too damn easy, wouldn't it?
I woke up with a bladder infection. I had felt it coming on the day before, had rushed to Walgreens to buy as much Azo, cranberry juice, and water I could carry, and had convinced a relative to spot me some Amoxicillin. Yes, I should have gone to the doctor to get a prescription. Yes, I know it is "wrong" and possibly "dangerous" to bum medication not prescribed to me. Unfortunately, I don't have this thing called "medical insurance" so don't judge.
This relative (who, just in case one of my readers is a no good narc, I shall call...Shammy) told me I could pick up the goods...I mean, Amoxicillin...at her house in the morning, on my way to work. Which is to say that I was working on a day my bladder felt like it was apt to explode every five seconds. Because we only had one other massage therapist working on a Saturday. Because I'm nice like that...(i.e., stupid). The first thing Shammy does when I walk in the door is offer me coffee. Do you want to know what my all time favorite drink in the world is? Guess. Yeah, it's coffee. Do you know the worst possible thing to drink when you have a bladder infection? If you said caffeine, you're correct once again. Do you know what happens when you give up coffee when you drink a pot a day every day for most of your life? It's a little thing called caffeine withdrawal. The most common symptoms are headache, drowsiness, fatigue, and the attitude of a overgrown grizzly on its menstrual cycle.
Don't worry. I didn't decapitated her. She's my pusher. And I love her.
We got to talking about both of my jobs. My boss at the New Orleans spa wants me full time, but I had been trying to hold off on that until I could find a replacement at the other spa I worked at on the Westbank. They were already down to one full time massage therapist and were having financial difficulties. I didn't want to leave them in a bind. Because I'm nice like that (i.e., really, really stupid). Imagine my surprise when I get a call from my boss later in the morning telling me this would be my last day. No, I hadn't been fired...exactly. The spa was closing. The owners were going to try to convince the building superintendents to allow them to stay open until the end of next week since we still had clients on the books, but chances were good this would be my last day. She would mail my last check to me. Did I mention she lives in Georgia? One of the many reasons the spa was failing in the first place was that the one owner that actually gave a crap about the business could no longer afford to live in Louisiana, had moved to be closer to her family, but had still kept an eye on things and even took care of payroll. She thanked me for sticking it out this far, and hung up, probably to go off somewhere to sob or something.
I was planning to leave anyway, and really, I had seen this coming. But the fact that the other owner wasn't there to tell me himself, had left it to a woman that doesn't even live in the state anymore, had decided to go on VACATION while this was going down without giving us any notice at all when I was biting my nails worrying how I was going to find a replacement to get my other boss off my back...it was galling. It was a slap in the face. It made me want to go out a drink away my sorrows, cry in my Abita Strawberry flavored beer while sad country music played on jukebox somewhere. Only I couldn't. Because I had a bladder infection.
And yes, I did work the rest of the day. Because I'm stupid.
*Author's Note: It turned out, my anger was misplaced. The partner who was on vacation hadn't been told about the closing until he had already left, and the landlord had contacted the partner in Georgia first. The guy got into some trouble over some online gift certificates, which also turned out not to be his fault since the things were stuck in online limbo. Still a suck day, but I had no right to rant at the guy, especially since I had another job to fall back on and not a ton of debt and a bankruptcy in my future. I'm totally sorry, Randal, and I hope things work out for you.
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