You can shoot me now

December 19, 2006

The minutiae as it stands: I was sick. I did take an antibiotic and got somewhat better. But now? Sicker, sicker, sicker. Bronchitis maybe. Pneumonia? After I cried on the phone to the nurse who said my doctor had no openings, she called me back and I’m being squeezed in at 4:15.

My son threw a fit worthy of a toddler because his gameboy, GAMEboy I say, refused to heed his vigorous efforts at control. He sobbed, “But I’ve worked sooooo hard!” as I took it away from him.

“You worked? If you think that’s work, then we have a real problem here,” I replied. I am considering giving all his Christmas presents to a homeless shelter. Really.

I fell into a feverish sleep where I kept dreaming that I couldn’t move or wake up. I feel like I’ve been on a bad LSD trip.

I threw something lunch-ish at the boys and a friend (oh, thank you!) will pick them up to take them to school in 25 minutes. I think I will sleep all afternoon.

Pray that Tim can get home early today so I don’t have to take my offspring to the doctor, which just might endanger their thankless little lives. All 3 are so wound up about Christmas, overly tired and just plain difficult in their own particular ways. I’m supposed to be at both school Christmas parties tomorrow afternoon so I can cough up one lung in the kindergarten and one in the third grade. Super. At this point, I don’t think I’ll even be well enough to see my mom for Christmas, much less spend lovely time together.

Okay, perhaps I’m seeing it all a bit darkly right now.

Or not.

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