Unhealthy Release
As some of you may or may not know, I have recently returned to this site, and while my interactions are sparse and my visits infrequent, I still keep an eye on the old haunts, even if they are turning into ghost towns. For those who care, continue reading, if you wish. For those who don't, that's all there is to it. Some of you may know, but I know most don't, that about 5 years ago I had an accident where I cracked several ribs on my right side. For the most part, they've been fine, even though I know they didn't heal properly since they still act up on occasion. This is the part where I may scare some of you. I feel I have every right to claim I have been quite literally working myself to death. Not the whole "Oh, I work so much and don't sleep" and all that garbage. I put away the Sygma truck, which is our inventory, which is basically me chucking around boxes that average 30 pounds, trash that weighs more, and when I close dining room, I have to move every last piece of furniture. I end every night, and begin almost every morning with near blinding pain. You may ask why I do it, why I don't request different shifts or responsibilities. The simple answer, I can't. I mentally and physically can't. My work ethic is such that I cannot not do a job to the full extent of my abilities, if pushing my capabilities. Also, thanks to my own fuck ups, I am no longer on my father's health insurance, and I have no clue where my paperwork from Panera is, so I'm self medicating with large quantities of alcohol. I figure if my body doesn't shut down and refuse to restart from self-preservation because of my ribs, then liver failure is the way to go. Who's with me? -Chron- |
|
|
