I'm really depressed today.
I mean, life isn't BAD. The Husband and I are reconciling and it's going very well, better than I ever would have anticipated. I like my job at the big, corporate, coffee company. I even like my co-workers. I have a trip out of town to look forward to. I'll be getting together with a bunch of other whackos to spend the night in a house where a bunch of people were killed and the place is supposed to be haunted. (I'm wondering if we need to start a pool listing who will nope the hell outta there and after how many hours. Could be big money!)
Anyway, life isn't bad. However, I'm the only one in the fam who is not sick right now. The Daughter came down with it first. Cough, fever, congestion, standard fare. We though it was cedar fever. (Allow me to explain. Here in central Texas, there are a LOT of allergens. We have so many allergens that the news gives an allergy report. This time of year is cedar season. If you have a response to cedar stuff that makes you sneeze and cough and stuff, it's called Cedar Fever.)
But then her brother came down with it. I was sitting on the couch with him watching the boob tube when he said "Mama?"
I turned to him to see what he was going to say. Instead of speaking, he coughed in my face. *sigh*
Then I came down with it, but I only had it for two days. On both of those days I went to work. If I can't get someone to cover my shift, I have to work.
Then The Husband was knocked flat by the great bug that shall not be named. He's dealing with fever, sniffles and coughing. When he's feeling well enough he's continuing to go into work where, prior to getting sick, he's been putting in 12 hours a day, six days a week trying to get a project completed on time. He's just one of the pieces of the puzzle, but every piece counts.
The Daughter has had residual cough for a week. Doc says it's a virus and drip is causing her cough, just have to ride it out. The Son's asthma is acting up, he's coughing.
I'm trying to take care of everyone. And while I"m doing this, I'm looking at the disaster that is known as my house looking back at me. Stacks of laundry that need to be done or folded. Some of the clean stuff has gotten knocked out of the baskets onto the floor and is now dirty laundry again. There are the dishes that have been stacked up and there's no way one load of dishes a day can keep up. The drifts of dog hair along the base boards. The dust all over everything. The Christmas tree is still up. The backyard is still looking like a junkyard. There is trash on the floor, including used tissues that have missed the wastepaperbasket but have been left where they land. And that's just downstairs.
Both kids were supposed to go back to school this week, but one or both of them were at home every day this week. If they're home they need things. Water. Crackers. Noodles. Over-the-counter remedies. The remote. Blankets. Tissues. Tea. Oh no, they don't like tea but they forgot.
I've managed to list some stuff on ebay that no one is interested in.
I'm totally overwhelmed and I have no idea what to do. I just want to be by myself. I want to be somewhere where no one is coughing. I want to be somewhere where no one is asking me for anything, where there aren't any chores that need to be done staring me in the face, reminding me of how I'm failing at this whole "making the house a home" thing. I sit and try to chill out but then I beat myself up for not interacting with the kids enough.
This has been going on for going on 8 days. It sounds really fucking selfish, whining and complain-y, but I'm wondering when my energy is going to give out. I'm emotionally wrung out. I'm physically tired. And now I've logged on to my blog for the first time in six months so I can bitch and beg for attention.
I'm a winner Corny.
Amanda's beauty tip of the day: I can't think of one right now, my brain won't bend that way today.