I was dreading going to work today.
10 mg Vicodin pills can apparently still kick my butt.
But I went.
Only to find out that my boss wouldn't let me work because I didn't have a permission letter from my doctor for my ankle injury.
So now I'm missing two more days of work, because I can't do a shift until that letter gets there so I can't work tomorrow either because obviously I can't get one from him on the weekend.
Basically, today I was simultaneously happy I didn't have to work and frustrated that I couldn't. I'm an enigma, I know.
Oh well. "Serenity to accept the things I cannot change" and all that.