What am I, seven?
I have things to do today, but I'm telling you right now, if they can't be done within the confines of these four walls, they stay undone until next Monday. Ordinarily, I wouldn't mind having a reason to stay in handed to me on a silver platter, but this one is kind of gross: I have Pink Eye.

I'm 35, and I have Pink Eye. Self diagnosed, actually. I'm building up the nerve to stray from the house and risk having the drive through lady at the Tim Horton's stare at a face that looks as if I didn't take off my fiendish makeup from Hallowe'en last night. Because if I'm going to the walk in clinic to get some anitbiotics, I'm damn sure going to have a nice coffee to ease the pain of the inevitable wait. I know, I should be grateful for even having a clinic to go to; my own doctor would only see me on the same day I called if I were hemorraging, but from what I see in the mirror, my eyes are only a hop, skip and a jump away from that right now. The Boy rushed out just before the kiddies started their begging last night to get me some Polysporin drops, and they've at least stemmed the incredible burning, but they can't seem to stop the creation of what can only be described as SuperGlue around my eyelashes.

Gross? Try living with it.

I don't remember it being this bad when I had it back when I was in public school. I vaguely remember it being a cool thing because you got sent home with a 'communicable disease' note. Time off! Yay! And it's not like having head lice, which I managed to avoid, Thank the Good Lord above. My nieces have all gone through that particular hell and each and every one of them has hair down to their behinds, so the finicky combing job was almost neverending. My Dad told me he got sent home with head lice when he was a kid in the '50's. Back then, he sneered, they shaved your head and doused your scalp with gasoline! Lovely nightmare material, non?

So, here I am with tons to do and no stomach to face the general public. Kind of blows my 'strict schedule' philosophy of the other day right out of the window, doesn't it? Oh well, I'm sure if I were still at the college, I'd be milking this for sympathy and kicking back like a good little overworked, highly stressed employee. So, kick back I shall. Work can wait until Monday. Maybe I'll risk going to the Blockbuster on the way back from the clinic and rent Spiderman before everyone else gets out of work.

Posted at 8:57 a.m.