Oh, man. I feel awful.
My parenting leaves much to be desired right now. I lay on the couch all day, with Noggin on. After breakfast for the schoolies, I didn't even feed the children. Jack came home and got his own yogurt for lunch. Sophie obtained her own... everything. The girl just eats and eats, I swear. They kept coming up to me and asking me for stuff, and I was like, sure, sure, do whatever you want, just don't hurt yourself or go outside! (Not really, sheesh!)
I seriously wanted to die earlier. You know when you're really sick and you start imagining your own death? Or am I the only weirdo who does that? In the wake of Natasha Richardson's tragic accident, I was all teared up over her, my own mortality, etc.
This is a pretty ridiculous post, now that I'm reading it back. But you get the gist. I feel like caca.
I'm going to the doctor tomorrow. I don't know what they're going to do for me, other than confirm that I have the Bubonic Plague, but whatev.
The suckiest part was I had to get up off my lovely couch with my lovely blanket and take a shower. Why? Because today was Brownies day. Normally, in this state, I'd have sent Rob, but all the cookie money was due. And I had to give some of them cookies, pick up some for myself, write all the cookie and money receipts out... blah blah blah. Rob's a smart man, but this I had to take care of myself.
I did receive mucho sympathy from the other moms, though. Although one mom, who is a nurse, chastised me for wearing the same sandals, day in and day out, even at the booths in the freezing rain. "No wonder you showed up with the flu! You're going to have me swearing in church!" (We meet at a church, obvs.) She said she was going to take me shoe shopping. But I like my sandals, man!
Anyway. I've sat up for the past two hours, working on cookie money deposits and stuff, and I am going to be SO GLAD when this is all over.
I'm putting myself to sleep here. Latah babies.