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I’m at home sick today. You know you’re probably going to have to end up calling in sick when you dream about a horde of zombies running up a field and the only place to hide is in some hot boiler room, where you sit and sweat and try to think of a way out of the situation but only land on throwing Care Bears out the window.
The idea of calling in sick, makes me a little sick. Probably because in my last job, calling in sick was tantamount to feeding your baby to the zombies. The only thing worse, in their eyes, than feeding your baby to the zombies was having it in the first place. I was the first person there who I knew to get pregnant and it was not well received. Heartless.
In the end, I was so afraid of that place that I told them I was leaving the day before I moved.
Plus, I don’t want to look like a loser who can’t hang so sometimes I drag myself in and sit miserably.
But that’s some zombie shit. I’m a human so I make the call.
How do you feel about zombies? Do you get nightmares and wake up sick? I’ve also been dreaming a lot about feet lately. I will have to consult my all-knowing phone for that one.