|I see this logo in my dreams.|
For political reasons (not those related to Trump and his cronies, but of workplace and school politics), I cannot divulge a great deal of my present circumstances. Siffucie it to say that I was on duty for far longer than was either prudent or legal. The saving grace to the situation is that I am not yet in a position to issue orders. No one was likely to die or to suffer irreprarable harm (other than I) as a result of my incoherence incident to fatigue. Still, the policies governing our hours exist for a reason. I face no workplace jeopardy because I insisted that my workplace supervisor sign off on my hours.
I'm now on extended rest because of a nasty case of walking pneumonia. I'll survive this just as I've survived everything else. I'm presently being babysat by a nurse. She's not one of the 26-year-old nubile nurses my brother so strongly prefers, but I'm sure she's competent. My only complaint is that she won't send for In 'N Out Burger for me. (I like my In 'N Out Burgers plain with just the bun and meat -- no sauce, no anything. I don't like their fries. They should be better than the fries from other fast food places because they use real potaties to make their fries, but for some reason they're not all that tasty to me.) Nurse Ratchet insists that I eat what she calls "real" food. The last time I checked, In 'N Out Burger contained calories, carbs, fats , and even a few grams of protein (for that matter, people have been known to grow fat on a steady diet of In 'N Out) but she apparently studied nutrition under a different professor than I did.
This, too, shall pass.