A Rose By Any Other Name…

God. Sometimes I can’t decide if I believe in his existance… but I’m pretty sure he hates me. Yes, I realize what a contradiction that is. I don’t care. I mean… let’s look at the facts, shall we?

I’m sick and thus I can’t work. My oh-so-understanding boyfriend is stuck footing the bills. I realize that seems sweet that he’ll do it, and it is, but I hate that he has to. I want to pull my own weight.

I manage to fall and break my arm and sprain my elbow and knee the first day he’s gone! The first day. I have to manuevre this entire week alone. Well my brother is apparently going to stay with me tonight through ’til Friday morning… which is great ’cause that means I can get him and Henry to clean up the spare bedroom. But at the same time that means I have two young, stinky boys here that I’ll have to clean up after this weekend.

And I can’t even stay home like Stuart told me to do this week. I have to go out to the EI office today to sort that all out, and I need a different tensor bandage ’cause this one is really irritating my skin. And tomorrow I have to go back to the hospital. Etc, etc, etc.

*cries*