I started feeling funny Monday during second period, and by the end of the day I was dialing triage. I spent the night in endless fever dreams, wading through flooded dungeons, fighting rabid wombats with a sword.
I’m sure you know what happened next: Steve came home from work yesterday complaining that he “felt funny” and by 6 p.m. he was sicker than I was.
I stayed at home yesterday and today which means I have used 43 percent of my personal days only 26 percent into the school year, a stressful ratio.
The kids seem OK so far health-wise, but dealing with them is a two-man job and right now we have no men.
So I might be make-up blogging into December, is what I’m saying.
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I hope you don’t die.