Sometimes the needs of the many...

It's an old quote from one of the Star Trek movies.

"Sometimes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few...or the one. "

Spock said it to Kirk as he was dying in the radiator room. 

And so, life goes. After a great deal of thought and deliberation, I've decided to leave my full time job and care for my mother-in-law. It will benefit her, my poor, beleaguered wife and our immediate family. 

I leave behind a job that, in all reality, has turned into the worst I have ever had. Consumer relations started out to be OK, but departmental changes and policy, re-direction of duties and assignment have turned it into a nightmare. 

It's pretty bad when you dread walking through those doors for another eight hours. 

My needs are being served here as well. 

The monetary loss will affect us but it is the sacrifice needed. The department I work in is already understaffed, overworked and disillusioned. I regret leaving them but once again...

The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few...or the one. 

I will still remain just as active in the Cardinal Couple website, radio show and UofL sports. Maybe more so...but the time has come for a change in the other aspect of what I do.

I worked 40+ hours a week when both my mother and father passed away.

I'm not going to do that again. 

paulie
xxxxx

Super Bowl, Super Miss

Super miss, for me. Went to the annual Super Bowl party that I normally go to each year with my wife. Always a good time, good to see good friends. About halftime, though...my stomach started doing backflips and 360 slam dunks. Wasn't from drinking either, as some of you might have guessed. I  had exactly one half of one beer and a shot of tequila. Food? Don't think it was that.

Anyway, managed to make it to the host's bathroom and, well....it got ugly. Made it back to his living room, sat there awhile and the roller coaster started up again. This time, my wife actually had to help me get to the facilities..my stomach was hurting so bad. Another phone call to "Earl" on the big, white phone.

She'd seen enough.

"You're sick" she matter-of-factly told me and I agreed. She hauled me out to the car and drove me home, sticking a plastic garbage bag in my lap. Unfortunately, it was used.

Straight to bed, missed the finish of the game and slept till 8 a.m. the next morning. Had to get up and finish an article for CARDINAL COUPLE. Back to bed, up again at 1:00 p.m. to go to work. A rough night, my stomach dancing like Hari Krishnas' in an airport. Home, back to bed.

Tuesday morning finds me feeling slightly better but still queasy and nauseous. Talked to a buddy this morning who tells me I've got the bug that's going around, Said he had it for 3 days a couple of weeks ago. Says I'll feel better by Wednesday, if it follows the same course as his.

It stinks. I'm surviving on Gatorade, scrambled eggs, chicken soup and toast. Forutnately, it's all stayed in place for the last 14 hours.

I actually won a jackpot for one of the quarters on the Super Bowl board I get on each year. Karen has my money, but honestly...I felt too damn rough to stop by and pick it up last night. Maybe tonight, maybe not. It's not going anywhere and after work today, I think another good night's rest is in order.

Which also stinks, because Tuesday Night is one of my two "TV Evenings". NCIS, NCIS LA and Vegas. We'll see. As of 10:40 a.m., though...Tuesday morning, I wish I had a sick day or two built up.

We nod a sympathetic head when someone tells us of their maladies. When that long, black train rolls around though and hits you squarely in the ass, you realize just exactly what they are going through.

I rarely get sick. This sucks, quite frankly. I'm against it and wish it would go away.

Peace.