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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Other · #1856117
Phoenix leaves class and goes home to rest because his day just is not working out...
The alarm went off at 0500.  Phoenix woke with a start.  He was not used to waking to the alarm because he normally woke before it went off and laid in bed until it was time to get up.  Not this morning.  Phoenix got up and went to the kitchen.  Pouring himself some cereal and milk, he felt that something was off today.  It was not entirely physical, nor was it entirely mental.  It was a combination of the two, which could lead anywhere.  He chatted with a friend in Arizona over Facebook for a little while because she had caught him online and was always up early.  Phoenix just could not get going and felt an uneasiness in his stomach and intestines.  He went to get ready for school.  It was 0600.  He wanted to play his guitar, but he did not feel like he had time, so he went into the bedroom to tell his spouse that he was leaving for class.  His spouse told him that it was awfully early to be going.  Phoenix did not need any more prompting than that to lie down in bed for a few minutes.  Phoenix awoke at 0700, feeling even worse than he had before.  He rushed out the door only to find frost on his truck, which he had to scrape off.  When he got to school, his parking spot was full.  He parked in the spot next to it, but in a very crooked manner, which he did not notice until he was halfway to the psychology building.  He trudged back through the snow with his books and his bag to park straighter and then went into the building.

Phoenix's assessment professor let him into the classroom, where Phoenix could put his things down.  He needed to register for Fall 2012 classes, but the temporary secretary did not know how to do that.  Phoenix went and found the communications secretary to help him register.  It went smoothly, except for how Phoenix was feeling.  Worse, in a word.  Assessment class began and Phoenix made it for a half an hour before he had had enough.  The thing that put him over the edge was the anal student directly challenging his every comment as they assessed an MMPI-2 case.  Phoenix just did not feel like dealing with it on this particular morning.  He did not feel well as it was, and she was making it absolutely miserable and intolerable for him.  Phoenix packed up his bag and his books, asked a friend to let the professors know he was sick and to take notes for him, and left after telling the assessment professor what was going on.

Phoenix drove home and had to park almost an entire block away because the high school kids had parked all of the spots full for that far.  Normally, Phoenix would not complain about walking the extra distance, but when he was sick, he just did not feel like it.  He made it in the door, set his bag and books down, and went to his office.  He decided shortly thereafter that he had food poisoning.  His symptoms were not fun ones.  After checking a few things on his computer, Phoenix went to sleep for a while.  His spouse and he went for a drive to get him out of the house after he was done taking his rest, which made Phoenix feel somewhat better.  His spouse had to go to work after they returned home, but Phoenix's friend brought him some 7Up when she found out he was ill.  That was sweet of her.  She soon had to leave because she had homework to do, and tests to study for.  She warned Phoenix to rest and not to push it or he would be sick for days on end instead of just one or two.  As they discussed things, Phoenix mentioned that he had eaten at a salad bar the day before.  "That's where you got the food poisoning.  A lot of places don't wash their salad bar greens well enough when they come from Mexico and there is bacteria still on them."  It made sense.  "I got sick at that restaurant off the salad bar that time.  Remember?"  Phoenix did remember, and his friend was ill for several days over that incident.  He thanked her as she left and then went back to typing his major report that was due the next week in assessment.  He was bundled up and taking it easy, but he felt like being productive at the same time.  By the end of the evening, having started early in the afternoon, Phoenix had that report finished except for a series of codes that he had to ask his professor about.  In the midst of working on the report, his spouse and he went to FedEx to pick up the two packages that they had tried unsuccessfully to deliver earlier that day.  Phoenix's friend had found the package delivery attempt slip on the door when she had come over.  The packages ended up being software and the full-size keyboard for Phoenix's new Mac.  By evening, Phoenix was able to eat pizza and was feeling better.  The 7Up and crackers earlier had worked, and most of the toxins were out of his system.

The last thing Phoenix did before going to bed for the night was e-mail his professors to let them know what had happened to him and why he had not been in class that day.  He felt that this was the responsible thing to do in light of the situation.  Phoenix was very good at keeping people up to date on what was going on with him.  He found that it was a simple enough thing to do and that it kept people very understanding if they were in the loop about things.  His psychotherapy professor e-mailed him the cognitive therapy questions and his stats professor let him know about the new homework posted online.  Phoenix could rest easy knowing what he had to do.
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