Permission to stay: granted.

It would appear that I need to give the company doctor more credit. Unlike what I was given to expect, this morning’s check-up wasn’t any big deal. He’s willing to let me continue with my duties here at work, so long as I don’t over-do. I’m perfectly willing to comply with that; it rather fits my own plans anyhow. He did find some wheezing bilaterally in the lower quadrants of my lungs, which is something new. It does fit, however, with the difficulty I’ve had breathing which started over the weekend. My personal doctor had pronounced my lungs clear the last time she ausculted me, so this is a new phenomenon. Hopefully it’s just related to allergies, which I do suffer from as well.

I find I’m starting to do some “fuzzy headed” stuff now, though. This morning is a prime example. I never carry a purse. They’re usually more trouble than they’re worth. Recently, however, because of prescriptions I need to have on me, and because I’ve wanted to have my cell phone and address book with me (just in case), I have taken to carrying a small leather back-pack style purse. This morning, I threw my prescriptions, along with the information I’d need to give to the company physician, into the purse and took it with my briefcase into work.

When I got to work, I started sorting through everything to get the information ready for the company doc. And I discovered I didn’t have my purse. Which meant I didn’t have the information, my prescriptions, my wallet, my cell phone … you get the idea. I looked in the car and around my office. Nadda.

I finally realized that I must have left it home. The thing I needed most was the information for the company doctor, so I finally figured I had no choice but to phone the apartment, wake the Socialist up, and ask him to get the information out of my purse for me there.

Except that there was no purse at home. The poor man looked everywhere, but it wasn’t to be found. And every other place I could think of to find the information didn’t pan out. I woke the poor man up for nothing. In desperation, I did a web search, got some of the information I needed on my doctor and figured I’d just have to put off the company physician until I could get the rest of what had been requested of me.

As it turned out, the company doctor didn’t need most of that information anyhow. I finished with the doctor and my usual Monday morning meetings, came back to my office, closed the file drawer to my desk …

and found the %$@&$(#*^% bag sitting on the floor, under where the drawer had been opened.

They’re right. The mind is the first to go.