Small Steps

Today I made dinner for boyfriend and I for the first time, and I walked Boomer by myself.  My short-term disability originally had me returning tomorrow.  

TOMORROW.  

I called my rep last week and said that my plastic surgeon wasn't going to sign off on me returning after four weeks.  She admonished me for not sending them in the necessary paperwork earlier.  Well, sorry, dude.  I'm exhausted and stoned on various medication most of the time.  I wish I was better and more on my game, but I'm not.

I received a letter today, confirming my return to work date of June 19.  Nooooo.  I called the rep back and she assured me that I am off work until July 2nd.  I think I asked three or four times, "So, I'm not expected to go back to work tomorrow?"

The answer to that is thankfully no.

I'm glad.  I really want to go back to work with all this shit behind me.  My company has been nothing but accommodating and awesome to me, so I'd feel bad if I came back and said, "Welp, still not done.  My chest is going to take forevs."  They deserve an employee who can devote 100 percent to the job at hand.  

Frankly, and most of you will find this odd, I actually miss going to work.  I feel like it's been ages since I've been to work and then my surgery.  I know it's only been four weeks tomorrow since my surgery, but it feels like months since the surgery.  Time has been dragging.  Boyfriend suggested that I take the remaining time off and do something great with my time off.  

Uhhhh.  

"This isn't a vacation, sweetie."

I'll be happy once I can go back to work and finally, just finally, getting my life back.  I'm the type of person who needs something to do, and my job fulfills that need in me.  Right now, I'm sore, exhausted and in pain, but yet I keep trying to find something to do.  

I gotz issues, yo.