wine-humorJust some venting. Don’t mind me.

One week from today will be my three-year anniversary as a technical writer with my employer. It’s significant because at three years my short-term disability insurance pays 100% of my salary if I need to be away from work for a while. Until that day, it only pays 60%.

I don’t think I’ll need to take advantage of that benefit (is it really a benefit if the premiums come out of my paycheck?) since I’m applying to get my medical cannabis card, but knowing I will have that safety net is a huge relief.

I’m lucky to have a job that allows remote work, but some days my symptoms are so bad I can’t pull a sentence together. All I can do is lie in bed and wait for normal brain function to return.

And let me tell you, when you’re that sick and you’re the sole source of income for the household, the last thing you need is a battle with anxiety over what happens if the fibro flare exceeds the number of sick days you have banked.

The second to last thing you need is a judgmental asshole telling you that what you’re really looking for isn’t a way to keep your job, but for the State of Illinois to enable your desire to be a lazy pothead.

 

Dear unnamed person who offers unsolicited advice,

Don’t you have a bad-day-in-the-carpool-line headache to treat with a bottle of red wine?

Love,
Me

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