cake or death?

If only all our choices were so easy.

So, I was asked and decided to agree to working a few shifts for the retail outlet I used to work for. I went back and forth about the decision; I’m still not thrilled with the way the store manager handled my request for accommodation during a flare, but without that job last year, I’m not sure how the mister and I would have made ends meet. I felt we parted ways on a bad note, but if there’s anything this economy has taught me, it’s this: Don’t burn bridges. You never know when you might need someone’s help in a way you’d never counted on.

I also remember how amazing my old manager at my old store was during my first flare, scheduling me for shorter shifts, allowing me longer breaks and being so flexible with scheduling. So I know the way my current manager reacted isn’t a company-wide thing. I still feel grateful enough to her and the way she handled the time being my first symptoms and getting put on Humira for the first time and beginning to feel better that it’s transferring itself just a little bit to my current score.

So, like I said, I went back for just a few shifts over the holiday season. In return, I get the awesome discount through the end of December. (Score!) Yesterday, I worked my first shift, a short one. Today, I was scheduled for a much longer one and oh my goodness, am I ever feeling it now. I’m sore all over, and I’d like nothing more than to lay in a tub filled with Icy Hot, drinking some delicious hot tea.

In the meantime, sitting here wrapped in fleece with my cat purring away and giving me a mini-massage is a close second.