This week I have a bronchial infection and it is very seriously sucking my will to live. Last night I coughed until I threw up. Yay, right?
The problem is that the only thing that makes me feel better is that perfect combination of Benadryl and cough syrup, which renders me nearly unconscious. I took it yesterday and felt much better, until I forced myself out of bed at 2:30 in the afternoon. This morning I'm thinking, "Okay, do I want to take the medicine and feel better and sleep all day long, or do I want to not take the medicine and feel awful but be able to be productive?" And then I'm like, "Who am I kidding? I've never been interested in being productive. I think I'll throw in a martini on top of the meds to give them that extra oomph."
So now I'm waiting for sweet, sweet unconsciousness and thinking about our money situation. It is bad, folks. There are a couple of things that may get cut off this week, plus we have to pay the child support, and we have about $250 in the bank.
I'm really trying hard to find something, anything, to bring some money into the house. I was really hopeful about this one job at Whole Foods, but they're hiring from the inside so no luck there.
It's really indescribably discouraging, this way that things are. I send out resumes all the time with cover letters explaining why I would be a perfect receptionist/office manager/executive assistant/copy editor/data entry person/ANYTHING THAT WOULD PAY ME; I am getting no phone calls.
For now I will just try to be thankful that at least I have the Benadryl.
When I first realized that I was really sick, Jason says to me, "Hey, look on the bright side: at least you don't have to call in." Small blessings.