Sick Leave Roster

Well there's the Big Swinging Dick's reconstructed shoulder and the re-attachment of a retina that almost went west during a violent row with his alcoholic wife, the much sinned against Mother Mary. He also suffers from narcolepsy (or that's what he convinced the doctor of) and has a prescription for speed to keep him going.

Then there's the Coven.

One has some agonising elbow problem for which she expects to be prescribed a two year course of steroids; the wheels of the NHS grind exceeding slow and the critical appointment has now been pushed back to October. She's got the clothes several sizes larger than those she currently wears on standby. Bye Bye Svelte Handmaiden.

Then there's Yoda. Her cerebral matter's been irreparably damaged by years of hydrogen peroxide seepage. Never knowingly without her lipstick and hair brush. Prone to headaches and dizzy spells, but only under certain circumstances. These attacks usually coincide with her being expected to Work. Once found flat on her back on the floor of the store manager's office complaining of a back problem, then dropped a toilet on her foot helping to renovate her house while on resulting sick leave. Cystitis, post-menopausal complications, tennis elbow.

Finally there's our very own Bolshevik Book Worm who hasn't let an anal fistula get in the way of a holiday somewhere sunny.

Odd all this given that Retail is supposed to be a young person's game. You'd expect the total age of the Big Swinging Dick's Deputy Dawgs to add up less than the age of one of his current Assistants but there you go.

The Maltese Terrier has poly cystic ovarian syndrome.

The Paper Shuffler-in-Chief has eczema, a weight problem, a faulty arch in one foot and an obsession with David Beckham.

Our Senior Frustrated Novelist has all these gynaecological problems including endometriosis, , plus digestive tract Issues that might or might not be related to the Endo. On her bad days air freshener is not merely desirable but essential.

Our general staff are a motley collection of students, flakes, failures, drop outs and decrepitude. Some one is always off sick, every one is always running off to the clinic or outpatients to have tests. The sad reality is that all this sickness is absolutely the most interesting thing about these people.

That's life in a small town. What can I be sick with now? What new and interesting slightly serious illness can I suffer from this time? Is it, please, something that nobody else has got at the moment? Are there enough fellow suffers about for us to form an exclusive little club with a ritual of knowing winks and jargon? Please admire me, for this is the best I can do.

You give them an inch

Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. That was supposed to be my working week, followed by a clear two day break, and then another four days. That working stretch included working a Thursday night then turning around and being up for 8:00 so that the Big Swinging Dick and I could get off in good time and prepare ourselves on Friday. That, by the way amounted to an 11 hour gap between the end of one shift and the start of the next, which I have a feeling is either something I had the legal right to refuse or which my employer had no legal right even to ask of me.

Then after night shift I turned around and covered someone some one's arse on Sunday. I have to admit there were no catastrophe's and even Pea Brain was fairly tolerable to work with most of the time. Came home, got some kip in family came back from outing etc etc.

Now my phone's gone off. Senior Frustrated Novelist has phoned in with severe gynaecological problems and she won't come in until she's seen her doctor. That means me doing this evening, possibly tomorrow and possibly not having a single day off between now and my holiday in the second half of August.

I can't tell you how thrilled I am about this. Because I'm not. All I got from the Big Swinging Dick, second hand, was "she'll probably appreciate the money".

Bugger it

She's got piles.

Never mind who for the moment. She's a bit mystified by the appeal of 'the whole gay thing' at the moment, as though taking it up the arse amounted to The Whole Gay Thing.

Don't know why I mentioned it except that it rather appeals to me that she has piles and can't ... [see previous post, and if you still don't understand - move on].

Mean time the staffing situation isn't any better. I gave half an hour of my precious life to persuading someone who can't cope with the pressure of an isolated environment selling booze, fags, lighters and gambling products that she remains a Valued Member of Staff.

That's half an hour of my life the company haven't adequately compensated me for.