I’m sick. Not deathly ill, but just a little under the weather. And what comes with feeling a little under the weather? I have absolutely no desire to do anything.
My house is a mess. Not just any mess, mind you. No, it’s a mess. I’m choosing to call it crackhouse-chic. As in nothing is where it should be. I am sitting at my desk right now, and I am appalled at the clutter. A dirty coffee mug, abandoned and empty and left there most likely at 3AM when I was awake in the wee hours trying to get a paper submitted by a deadline. An empty OJ bottle from when I grabbed some juice from the cafeteria on the way out of work on what was my fourth night in a row at that hell hole. Camera, cell, and mp3 player, all with their affiliated charges and USB cables, in a jumble of wires. My purse, unzipped and laying on its side, with contents strewn out across the space. I think this is the remnant of the search for my sunglasses for our walk yesterday. And there are about three empty inhalers.
Empty inhalers from where I have been wheezing like a freak for the past few days, to the point that coworkers would tell me, “Andrea, take your inhaler.” Because they could hear my dysfunctional lungs. It has yet to be seen if this is due to the fact that I have allergies like a mofo, I have been coming down with something, or a few days ago, I was taking puffs off of an inhaler that apparently was involved in a freak body-spray-leakage and thus drenched in the stuff. Nothing like Victoria’s Secret’s Strawberries and Champagne fumes all up in your lungs. Anyhow, I think it was the second one, that I’m coming down with something, simply because yesterday, the other stuff started: runny nose, cough, achiness.
But my dysfunction isn’t limited to the desk. Let’s discuss the kitchen table. Diaper bag. A stack of board games that have been uprooted from their home when Zach started really walking, and we realized he could reach them, complete with their choking-hazard little pieces. As in, “What’s that in Zachy’s lung? Oh, it’s a family member from the Game of Life–not sure if it’s mommy or daddy because the pink or blue doesn’t show up on an x-ray and he’s gonna need a bronchoscopy to get it dislodged from his bronchiole so we can know…” But I digress. What else? Text books. Mine. From where Ev spilled juice the other day and John made a mad dash to save the (quite literally) thousands of dollars’ worth of what is essentially paper and cardboard and ink. There’s also a bottle of shampoo that never found its way to the bathroom when groceries were put away…two weeks ago. A bottle of multi-purpose cleaner…ditto. The list goes on and on.
I’ve fallen behind on my blog, as well as reading others’.
Evan starts school in 2 weeks. T-W-O. I have not bought him a single school supply. He needs all new uniforms this year, from short sleeve to long sleeve, shorts to pants. Hell, he even needs new gym clothes. That one is all the school’s fault: we wore whatever for gym class when I was a kid. Evan has to have navy sweats and plain white t-shirts. And he needs new shoes….Gah.
The day before Ev starts school, John does as well. He can get his own damned books. He’s a big boy.
I am finishing up my e-commerce class. Next up is corporate finance and operations management, Don’t be jealous. Actually, I have the overwhelming feeling that those two are going to suck when put together in the same 5 weeks. I have this week and next to not have to worry about it, so screw it. And I must admit that I have coasted by on my e-commerce. But I also have a perfect score right now with only 2 assignments left to submit. Oh wait, I lied. I missed 5 points on last paper because I forgot to close the parentheses on one of my citations. So I may only get a fucking 99.9%. Pffft.
I have a mandatory meeeting coming up as well. For the NICU. I’m on the list to go there. As a result, I have to go and spend some time at Cincinnati Children’s RCNIC (Regional Center for Neonatal Intensive Care). Sweet baby Jesus, help me. Because I can keep my shit together when it counts. But then, once it is all over, the baby is saved, and it is time to move on, I think of mine. I picture Zach and Evan and what could have been with either one of them, and I break down. Well, there, that is all I’m going to see for 8 hours a day until my rotation is over. These are the gods of the neonatal world. Other specialty children’s hospitals send them the shit they can’t handle. Actually, they’re ranked number 3 in the nation. 3. Out of God-knows-how-many. This will be so exciting, yet so emotionally and mentally stressful. I can wait on that, too.
I have to come up with 36 continuing education credits in order to renew my creds with the National Board for Respiratory Care. Yeah. I actually don’t have to have that finished, but I need to ensure that all of my credits count before the deadline, so I have time to replace the ones that do not count. Either that, or I can sit for my credentialing exams all over again. No, thank you.
So the bottom line is that I have a lot of crap to do, and no gumption to do any of it. Yes, I suck at life right now.