Misery

Oh. my. word. I feel like a poop popsicle, like $hit on a stick. I'm trying to clean up my language, written or otherwise, because of the babe. I know, she can't read, but this is bound to surface at some time or other. "The truth will out" and "In vino veritas"; yes, I like my wine. AAAAAAAHHHHHHH.

I'm sitting under an electric blanket, wearing pajama pants, long-sleeved T-shirt, and a robe. And heavy socks. Oh, and did I mention that it's at least 76 degrees in the house?

I think I have a sinus infection, and I dread waking up my husband in a few minutes to tell him because he might have to take the day off. Sinus infections sound so blase', so benign. But they are not! There's a reason that the doctor's office will fit you in that day if you think you have one. It can burst and infect your brain with green pus and you'll die. Okay, now that I think about it, that last sentence is bullcrap. But still. They really can abscess into your brain, and I should know, because I'm a hypochondriac of the highest order. Give me a computer, access to WebMD, and some symptoms, and I'm a happy camper.

I'm usually not such a wuss about these things, but dang. Audrey started out with a cold last Wednesday, I got it Thursday, and we both have wicked coughs. Matt had prom duties and I had to actually get my mom over here to take care of us on Saturday. And I am not a person who likes to ask for help. Little Miss Independent, indeed.

As per usual, I think my cold has made the ugly metamorphosis into a sinus infection. My head is killing me. I hate taking antibiotics, so this especially sucks, but my biggest problem is childcare for today. I don't want to expose Audrey to more germs, and I honestly don't think I can take care of her alone today. The dizziness, the stumbling...I better stop or Child Protective Services will pay me a visit today.

I think Matt has a meeting after school that he can't miss, related to school, but for his part-time business. Which means he couldn't miss a day of school and then show up for this meeting. Dammit.

I could ask Mom to come over again, but I feel guilty. She spent all day Saturday here, and she'd have to take a day off work, and she just had a tooth removed. I could ask The Mother-in-Law, but that would be hard because my house is a freaking WRECK. I would be so embarrassed for her to see it, truly.

Guess I better go in there and bite the bullet. Matt has to let school know by 6 if he can't be there. Please let me be mistaken about the date of this meeting.