M is sick; N is getting sick; I am sick and tired, but otherwise just fine. A had it last week; the dogs are sickening and the state of my kitchen would make anyone sicker than hell. So I had to go pick up M from school around noon, since, as he martyredly noted in the car, I had yelled at him this morning and forced him to the halls of academe, pictured here. I am evil that way and he didn't have a fever. But then when the nurse calls I always get consumed by guilt and so, on the way there, I stopped at Kerr Drug and picked up $30 worth of cold medicine, cough drops and kleenex - the last of which I left on the kitchen table and then discovered this evening, opened from the side. From the side. I love my son but good lord, the boy does not know how to open a kleenex box. No wonder he's doing so miserably in school. Maybe I should be kinder to him and use words of one syllable in a soothing voice instead of screaming about jesus, His crutch and sacred pogostick at 7:45 every morning.
I also had to sign my soul away to receive sudafed, now that it's become a controlled substance. This is ridiculous. Nyquil doesn't work anymore and sudafed, which is so harmless that even I, notoriously afraid of pills, will take it without qualms, gets me more evil looks and signing of forms than the damn percodans and morphine I picked up for my mom last summer. Which is utterly stupid, since, among other things, you'd think the clerk would have realized that if I was planning to come on home to the trailer and cook up some nice meth for dinner I wouldn't have bothered spending all the rest of my money on new, unimproved Nyquil, cough syrup, echinacea lozenges and, of course, the aforementioned giant boxes of kleenex.
In other news I reread my blog myself and yeah, okay, I guess I have been a bit insane lately. I felt like Homer Simpson - I wanted to beat the monitor and yell "Be more funny!" So I will try. Not that I'm not secretly grieving all sad like and adolescent and pathetic, okay, because I am, like, so fucking emo that it would blow your head off and make Morrissey (the old, interesting Morrissey) look like the teen leader of Up for America but still. I will attempt a return to making more funny. And I have a call into my guru therapist so that he can take up the angst slack, so everyone can breathe a big old sigh of relief.
Have I mentioned lately how much I hate February?
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4 comments:
You and me both, sister. I am so over winter; my spirit is completely drained. At least it's finally above freezing in the city; I walked to and from church tonight without feeling like I was going to diiiiiiie.
If you wind up sick or even just house-bound, you might enjoy some online comics. Try nothingnice.com, go to the archive and you can read 5 years worth in order. Or click on links and check out some other comics.
You know you can't force funny. We're all here for you regardless of wit!
Yeah, I still find the blog funny and entertaining even in the recent winter blues iteration.
Little Red Screamers is what I call the sudafed, so I guess they have a little more punch for me than you. I also had to sign up to get some recently and I was impressed at the quantity that you could get. Something like 300 pills/month.
Umm, was that a particularly difficult to understand box of kleenex? Or maybe that is some kind of "cool" thing those crazy kids are doing these days?
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