I had a dream that the government wanted to ban the use of the word “playground.” The reason wasn’t clear, but there was a lot of debate and uproar over it. Eventually, they decided to try to ban playgrounds altogether because they (a) carry too much chance of kids getting hurt and (b) encourage freedom and creativity, none of which the government wanted to be responsible for.
Woke up with stomach cramps – not sure if it was my body’s reaction to such a stupid dream-government decision, or something else. I decided that if I’m going to be curling up around my stomach, I’d rather do it at home than at my desk under fluorescent lighting with only an hour’s drive home to look forward to, so I went in to the office early this morning and got my laptop. Left at 5:40; it’s about a 50-minute drive one way so I got my computer, left my boss a note explaining why I wouldn’t be there, drove home, and walked back in the door just in time to start up my computer at my regular start time. Oy. But I’d rather work than call out sick – I’m not debilitated, just don’t want the embarrassment of having stomach trouble at work, and Matt has a cold so it’s only a matter of time until I get actually sick, so I’m saving my sick days for that.
On the drive back from the office, though, I had to stop unexpectedly at one point because the person in front of me made a sudden turn (no blinker). The road onto which they turned was proudly marked as PRIVILEGE DR. And I thought to myself, wow, nice McMansions and everything, but I’d feel like a total douche living on a street actually called Privilege Drive.
So here I am, start of a workday and with a stomachache. But at least I can deal with it at home, and I got all today’s commuting done in one go, which means that as soon as it’s log-off time, someone’s totally taking a nap.
That someone is me.