This has been a bitch of a week, if I may say so.
Ill. As in olive chunky snot bubbling from my nose ill. As in coughing up the same snot that apparently can’t follow directions and ended up bouncing around in my lungs instead of clogging up my nostrils ill. As in taking medication that smells like one of those silent-but-deadly farts ill.
Broke. As in I-need-food-stamps broke. As in good thing I was sick and didn’t eat much because I couldn’t buy food broke. As in my gas light has been on for days and I rely on the goodwill of the Universe to get me to work broke. As in 38 cents in my bank account broke.
Ill and broke, but now it’s Friday. Payday Friday. Even though nearly all of those tiny numbers are already accounted for, I can pretend for a few hours that I have money again. I can put gas in my car and no longer beg for mercy from the gas gods. I can pay bills and those 877 numbers will disappear from my caller id. I can buy diapers and stop using the thousands of pages of ads from the September issue of Vogue.
It’s Friday and I can smile because I know I can sit around on my butt for 48hrs and not even get dressed if I don’t feel like it. I don’t even have to dress Maya. We can both sit around, nearly naked and stinky, blow snot bubbles, and watch HGTV all weekend. When you’re ill, that is such a lovely thought.
Oh- A bit of smoking humor to follow that last post: