When You Feel Like Caca...

I deem this to be a seasonable suitable picture to describe how I currently feel, though I am not puking.

Do you:

a) Curl up in a ball and cry
b) Tell your husband, even though it's completely unwarranted, that he's a big loser (you even do the whole L on the forehead thing--feel free to start singing "All Star" by Smash Mouth)
c) Call your mom up crying and beg her to take your small child, mostly because you're sick, but also because she ripped your diploma and when you got mad she simply replied that if you put her in time out she'd rip up more of your diplomas (ha, as if).
d) Take it like a woman and just deal and move on with your day.
e) You do a, b, and c and tell anyone who can actually do d they can go take a flying leap.

Yes, yes, I'm proud to say I selected e from that little quiz. Do I get an A or what? I hate feeling like crap, and I hate feeling like crap because I feel like crap even more, if that makes any sense. Basically, I hate succumbing to my weaknesses. I've been sick for about...a month now. Whether it's a persistent bout of colds I'm receiving from my little snot rag friends at school (I say this with love), seasonal allergies, or a combination of all three, at the  moment, I'm left with what could very well be the onset of bronchitis and an ear infection.

Woot.

Now, that all sounds pretty cruddy, and it is. And up until today, I've powered along. I've showed up at work. I've taken care of my family (though the house is in a bit of a decline, mostly because I slog my but home at about 5, cook a meal, then crash somewhere until Lizzie's too tired to play any more, then drag her to bed with me). I've been attempting to help my husband with the house training of our new puppy (some success at this point, but it's been really hard to remain consistent). Anyway, all this requires a lot of energy, of which I do not have a great supply.

So, now, as I begin to see the very rocky bottom of this situation (possibly getting just a tiny bit sicker than I've been so far) these two things occur to me.

1. DOH goes back to work today, rendering him virtually useless until Wednesday night (long 12-hour shifts doing incredibly stressful work--I tend to let him be on work days). 
2. There is a very good possibility my car will not start in the morning. Just sayin'. 

I'm trapped. And alone. 

The alone part (at least I'm alone for now) doesn't bother me so much. Mom came and took Lizzie for the day. I slept for a couple hours (hence how I am able to muster the strength to write this blog post). It's actually kind of nice, though I did end up feeling really bad/guilty when my mom showed up to get Lizzie (who, of course was thrilled to be rid of me). As crazy busy/into things Lizzie is now (it's actually worse than when she was a toddler--the smarty-pants and curiosity factor have been boosted times a million, and she's so independent, so she's into every freaking thing), the house feels empty without her in it. And the car business? Let's just say I'm dumb and it could have been avoided had I taken certain precautions (like stopping to get gas), but I'm sure the situation will resolve itself...somehow. I just don't like the uncertainty of the availability of my car. 

Maybe worst of all, DOH is sick, too. And I want to cuddle when I'm sick. He doesn't want to be touched. We spent a half an hour of me slowly trying to rest my arm across his chest or trying to snuggle up to him, and him then pushing me a way, saying, "Stop. Watch this show with me." Larry the Cable Guy? He can git himself done (that sounded way wittier in my  head...). Somehow DOH thinks watching a comedy special with him is the same as being tenderly wrapped in his arms. Not so much. 

Okay, well, now that I've hacked my brains out and can see that according to the clock I have now let enough time go by that I can use my inhaler (thank goodness for drugs), I'm going to go do that. 

If you don't hear from me soon, assume I've been affixiated (I really feel like this is a word, but spell check keeps telling me otherwise--I am choosing to ignore)  by my own windpipe.