*Loads Gun ... *

It's been a miserable week. I've reached the end of the line with it all. I'm ready to load the gun and fire. Okay, that was a bit melodramatic of me to say. The truth of the matter is that I've had the nastiest illness for the past week, and I'm tired of it. I DO feel better this morning, but not enough to where it makes me want to jump for joy at the thought of losing this new friend of mine.

I haven't heard my voice in four days. I haven't smelled anything in 7. I haven't swallowed properly in five. I haven't wanted to get out of bed in 6. Oh what sweet joy!

It irks me when I'm ill. As a mother, sickness is not something I should have, and if I do have it, it doesn't get acknowledged much. As a wife and mother, I am still required to perform all necessary duties to make sure that the children are well taken care of and hubby is happy and full of glee.

Glee.. what a strange word. It is quite old fashioned, don't you think? I love it, and it's a shame that it is not used more often than it is. There are a lot of old fashioned words that should be revived, but that is another entry entirely..

I am not permitted to lie down. I am not permitted to bitch and moan about how horrible I am feeling. I am not allowed to tell any child or husband that I do not feel like doing something because of how shitty I am feeling. I must carry on like a trooper.

Hey! When did I join the army?!

Hubby is in bed right now. He is home from work due to the pounding we are receiving from a snowstorm. He would have stayed home anyway because he's finally reached that point where he is sick.

Boo-hoo! Bah!

I've been sick for a week. He's been sick for a few measly days. Today is his worse day, thus far. All he can do is whine, bitch and moan about it. You know who is going to have to baby him and take care of him?

Yep, me.

It doesn't matter that I've been ready to crawl on my belly to the doctor's office. It doesn't matter that I smell like Vick's Vapor Rub, have bedhead that I have not touched since late yesterday morning or that I smell like sickness. Hell, it doesn't even matter that I, most likely -- I have not looked-- have snot drying on my cheek.

None of that matters because he's sick. Since he is sick, I have to double my load of things to do. I have to take him medicine, make him soup and make sure he's all tucked into bed nicely.

I think mothers and wives should receive some medal of honor. I think we should all be rewarded with an all-expense paid vacation to a spa.

I think we should..

*heads falls on keyboard*

..go back to bed.

...kerchoooooooo....


Oh eww......