Flu Flat

I reckon I am close to be called into the Big Boss’s office. This is not good. Not good at all. Especially as my wit & diplomacy continues to be lost in the fog of flu.

Fucking flu.

Only two “personal” people have been honoured with being able to phone me on my office phone. The hubby. And now The Boy. Both have abused this privilege this week.

Have you ever tried to get a hysterically funny gay guy off the phone. It is not easy. Especially when all I am wanting is a good laugh and conversation, thanks to the Flu Losers.

My boss has reacted to this obvious “waste of company time”. By strolling up to my desk, then around it, then looking at my computer to see what is being displayed. All the while I am trying to either get the gorgeous Boy or the uproarious Hubby off the line.

And to add to the recent handcuff embarrassment; during one call I was in the process of emailing The Boy some, well, suggestions. Yes yes, THOSE sort of suggestions. I didn’t ‘minimise’ it fast enough, the boss saw the first line, and when I did hit “minimise”, the window behind it was my blog.

My boss caught a glimpse of my blog. Fuck.

And what is MY reaction to all of this. To blog about it. I am ‘intelligent’ like that.

So I would just like to say to a possible new reader: Hello Boss! Please don’t fire me! I get the work done. And you can’t fire an invalid…. Yes, flu has invalidated me. Wait. That doesn’t sound right… Fuck this, I am grumpy, freaked out by career paths, need heavier meds, have The Losers thanks to being run down, and need The Boy to doctor me like he has been promising to.

I just publicly admitted to needing the love & comfort of a man. 2008 has indeed brought change.

And through it all, Bruce sings. I finally got my hands on his Greatest Hits, and it is better than I expected. Maybe I will give this all up to go and mistress myself off to gorgeous ol' Mr Springsteen.