I hate going to the doctor. I only go when something is stupidly wrong or when they insist on a visit before I can get a prescription refilled. This week, something is stupidly wrong. If it were just a cold or the flu, I wouldn’t worry about it. Since Saturday, I’ve been feeling dizzy. It’s not fall-on-your-face dizzy. It’s just I can feel the earth rotating mixed with a modicum of who’s spinning the room. It comes and goes. I can be sitting at my desk, and suddenly I get dizzy. Did I move? Nope. Alternately, I just had my head in the washing machine, looking for the last bit of laundry to put in the dryer. No dizziness. Huh? Here I am, nearly upside down and nothing. What the heck? So off I go, later on, to see a doctor.

I don’t feel bad enough not to work. I worked the whole time I had COVID. Lion thinks I should be in bed. Well, it would be comfier and warmer, but why waste perfectly good paid time off on being sick? I’m taking an hour off this afternoon for a doctor’s appointment. And I’m seriously considering taking tomorrow off. It’s just a half day. We’ll see what the doctor says. I come from a long line of you-show-up-to-work-unless-you’re-dead stock. My grandfather’s cows didn’t milk themselves.

When I walked past the spanking bench, I briefly considered moving it into its new position. Then I decided it can wait until I’m able to spank Lion. It would be silly to have it out and not make use of it. Lion has been a good boy. I think he’s only slightly annoyed me once, and I can’t even remember what he did. Obviously, there hasn’t been anything sexual going on. I thought about snuggling with him but then figured it might make the dizziness worse. Sitting still does enough of that.

I just want to get things back to normal. That’s really the only reason I’m going to the doctor.

Listen to this post.