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I well and truly hate being sick.  I’m all for the guilt-free time off work, don’t get me wrong.  It’s the rest of the being miserable in your own skin, can’t breathe, internal thermostat is busted, nothing tastes right, not sleeping worth a damn bullshit that I can totally do without.

So I got up this morning and didn’t feel like boiled death so I thought I’d come to work.  I stopped on the way to get tea and breakfast and made the executive decision to fuck the warning about milk and the antibiotic and got myself a wee carton and a lovely blueberry danish in a crinkly cellophane package.  Ah yes, the finer things in life.  I managed to smoke perhaps 1/4 of my cigarette before realizing it was a bad idea.  Got in to the office, spent some time catching up with K, and started going through email.

It’s pretty well been downhill from there.

A class I’m scheduled to teach next week – that isn’t really even my class – is at capacity and had to have further enrollments turned off.  That’s 20 people.  I just barely know this shit myself.  The girl who was supposed to teach it decided she doesn’t like teaching, so it fell to me as being the only other person with real experience.  Nice.

I’m supposed to teach my own class this Friday.  Not really ready for it thanks to having been sick so much.  There’s only 2 people signed up so far and our minimum is 5.  I brought this to my boss’s attention this morning.  I have to wait until tomorrow morning to make the call because it got advertised again today and you just never know.  Whatever.

Josh doesn’t really seem to be too interested in me lately, like at all.  He seems to be totally willing to put in effort during the day – when I asked him to leave me alone – and then at night when we should be hanging out together he’s not at all interested.  Most of the time when we go downstairs at night he sits with his back to me.  Last night Evie curled up on his pillow before he sat down and I wouldn’t let him shoo her away.  It was kind of nice being able to see my husband’s face when I talked to him, and I made a point of saying that.  I just don’t get it.  I know I’ve been kind of off lately from having not felt good, but I didn’t think I was that terrible.

I’m just exhausted.  I took the first dose of prednisone this morning and it might be what’s making me shake, but I don’t know.  My fine motor control seems to pretty well be going down the shitter, but that’s been coming for awhile.  Seems like the signals aren’t going right from the brain to the fingers.  (have I bitched about this before?)  Anyway, gotta try to talk to shrinky-poo about this next time.