Bi And Large

It's Sunday night, I feel crummy, and I don't relish the thought of waking up and going to work tomorrow. I LOVE my job. I do. But I have been told that I have an over-packed day waiting for me, and I am still woozy and coughing until my chest hurts. Probably no longer contagious, ok. But how annoying to have to spend 45 minutes per appointment in a tiny office with a client, in very close proximity to their body, when you keep going into coughing spasms that don't quit? They are going to think I am giving them the black death. I am going to get all kinds of evil looks and comments, and I don't blame them. I would much rather be curled up in my own bed staying warm with a good book and a mug of tea and honey thankyouverymuch. My rx cough stuff has codeine in it so I'm sure I'm really gonna be in top form tomorrow. Don't worry, it will be counter acted by the adrenaline surge from the albuterol inhaler every 4 hours I'm still on. Ugggggghhhhh.

Wah wah. Whine whine whine. At least I have a job. At least I'm alive. At least I have health care. I know, I know, I know.