Would you like a Flu shot?

Sunday night and I'm utterly infected with something.
My nostrils are inflamed and I can't swallow.
Everything aches, I think I have the flu.
It's funny that I should get the thing seeing as how I was just vaccinated for it.
Once again Murphy's Law prevails.

I call in sick Monday leaving Dragon to fend for herself until the other tech arrives.
I spend the day in bed after chugging ZzzQuil.
I feel awful, I don't eat except want so desperately for chicken soup and orange juice.
In my feverish state I become a mean cynic and curse the world and everyone who says they love me yet I don't even have as much as one person by my side to comfort me.
Monday and I hate everyone.
My only visitor was actually my ex husband who refuses to buy my daughter a pair of shoes so we have been sharing a pair we send back and forth, of course Sunday my kid forgets to pack the shit. So Monday morning bright and early the wanker stops by to get them. I groggily head outside disheveled and bothered.
My daughter comes in not wearing her glasses, her own hair a bird's nest.
I decide to bitch at my ex threating him to care more about her appearance or he won't get her any more. She will be 9 next month, she's a girl, c'mon for God's sake man! get it the fuck together.
He says nothing in return which is wise considering that I now have the power to infect healthy humans with my flu strain.

Finally later on that Monday evening after the brutal sun dies down, I decide to walk in my sickly state and walk 11 blocks to the nearest CVS to buy cold medicine and orange juice.
Once again I am my own hero.
My superpowers consist of saving my own bacon and living to tell about it.
I rub Vicks all over myself and turn on the humidifier. I take more meds and try to sleep some more.
In the morning after a long night of on and off sleep, I wake up and shower. I take vitamins a first in a long time.
I need to go to work because not only do I need to make rent and pay my shitty phone, I've been asked to decorate the pharmacy for Halloween.
I don't want someone else to do it, so off I go walking under the sun for more than 2 miles to work.
I get there super loopy and find a floater pharmacist at the reins.
I could've called out and none would've been the wiser but ah responsibility how it clings to me so...
I manage to be busy all day but decide instead of leaving at noon, to leave at one instead, I'd stay and decorate the pharmacy.
Before my shift is over I get some older man telling me in his own crude way that he'd like to sleep with me or "give me the business" as he so colorfully put it.
I get another problematic customer, an older woman picking up meds for her son which were originally not filled at this store. Nothing is ready and everything needs to be transferred in. She doesn't want to wait and mumbles profanities on her way out.
I'm sick and tired literally.
I get a call from my preggers pharmacist who is in a another building about a block away and would like me to meet her at this office to help carry a large tote containing flu vaccinating materials back to my store.
It's good to see preggers, she's glowing.
I'm sick and now lugging around a huge crate not tote back to my pharmacy.
This day is not going how I thought.
When we head back to the store I start to decorate, maybe tomorrow will snap a few pics for you to see although I didn't really finish decorating, I had to go home.
Before leaving home the other tech helps out a rather old lady, the woman leaves a stench behind, a mixture between a port a potty and a urinal.
Lysol air fresher is sprayed to dispel the odor and I continue putting up spider webs everywhere.
As I head near the blood pressure machine, looks like she possibly has pissed on the chair, thus I've discovered the real stench.
The manager from the front store argues about cleaning it going so far as to say the blood pressure machine is part of the pharmacy and we have to clean it, but in the end he does.
I'm finally coming to a close of my shift and punch out only to walk back home under the scorching sun.
I finally am home bored and sick.
An hour or so after being home the cable company comes over to collect a modem and cable box and cutting the cable running outside.
Did I mention the lovely cable company has sent me a bill for 400$ for services rendered.
My life holds no surprises. I expect a giant T-rex or Giant gorilla to come and rip my roof off taking me in its paws or jaws.
Or maybe a meteor from the sky will hit me on my walk to work, or maybe the zombie apocalypse will start and I'll be holed up in a mall somewhere.
That last one might not be so bad.
I've binged and purged 2x today and have been an utter sick couch potato watching bootlegged copies of Harry Potter flicks.
My car sits outside useless as I feel.
My white broken laptop has taken a turn for the worse no longer starting up at all, holding downloaded movies and my whole ITunes library with it, not to mention pictures and another copy of my novel.
How can one endure so much and still breathe?
I don't know, I think I stopped breathing years ago and I'm now running on fumes.

I am so fucking depressed you people just have no idea.
It's a feeling I wish on none a useless feeling that just keeps beating you down until you're nothing, until you're as useless as it, the one difference is that for some reason somewhere deep inside this abused body I don't roll over and die just yet. I'm still here and walking around faking smiles and doing what I have to, to make this little household of mines survive.

I wish it was Friday so I could be done with walking and work, done with wearing clothes I hate and pretending all is well when it bloody isn't.

I wish I could just be holed up somewhere with my laptop and just write all day long, nothing but a bottle of wine and a fresh pack of smokes to accompany me.
We're already in October and I have a deadline looming to finish this book of mines to finally push myself into finishing the thing once and for all.
I want to write two more right after it, but please let me finish the one first, let me start and finish something.

I feel awful now, have taken more cold meds and am chasing it down with wine.
I need sleep and then tomorrow more walking.
More dealing with medicines and insurance issues, irate customers and the race against the clock.
Then I have to get home and be a mom.
Feed my kid I don't know what and try not to let the way I feel touch her, not let on how utterly sad I am for no good reason.
Thursday and Fridays are the most painful on my body as I hurriedly walk in opposite directions in a race against time.
My boyfriend comes this weekend for a sleepover and I almost feel bad for him.
There's no cable here and no car, a sparsely filled fridge, just me and a kid, pets too thrown in for good measure.

I pictured my life to be getting better not worse.
I imagined a lot of things.

In all this madness the one thing that resonates is Ed.
If I could just be skinny I would gladly tolerate all of this with a smile.
The fact that I'm not losing weight just pisses me off even more.
You'd think a poor bitch like me wouldn't be so fat.

Life is funny and cruel.


There’s no grand excellence to it. In my experience it was just almost the gulaggy boringness of it that’ll kill you. You’re just in this murk. And you’re with other humans, but you lose all your human skills and it’s just like you’re in this plastic bag and you can’t quite connect with people. You lose your ability to transmit electricity or something, and to receive it. –Neko Case, re: her depression, in an August 23, 2013, interview in The Guardian


G'night..