Sick and tired

So here I sit, hacking up a lung, voice completely lost and sinuses blocked with what appears to be cement. I even called in sick to work.

But I knew it was coming.

I have ALWAYS gotten sick, broken a bone, had an accident, or caught some mysterious malady when I'm stressed. I've long ago accepted that I'm just that kind of person. You know the type.

But what makes me mad is being called a Drama Queen. I thought that was reserved for those who actually enjoy the attention. Kind of like Janice on The Sopranos. And I really can't stand her.

To the contrary, I HATE being that person. I HATE knowing that if someone at work is sick...I will be the one to catch it. If I fall down...I'll be the one who ends up in a cast and on crutches, while others just brush themselves off and get on with it. If anything can go wrong in a pregnancy...well, you get my drift.

And boy has it been stressful around here. Or around work, more specifically.

You see, without risking my place in that ever-tenuous ladder of success, I'll leave it at this:

The auditors came.

The auditors saw.

The auditors fired people.

And some others quit. In the end, those who weren't affected (which frankly, I feel AFFECTED as hell) were STILL stuck in Spanish Inquisition meetings all day. Let's just say that the end result was my now doing the job of THREE people.

It sucks. And if I knew a better word for "sucks" which would not involve pressing my swelling-with-congestion brain any further into action...I would use it. I'm just too damned tired.

But on the upside, Mr. Blogger made me grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup this weekend, even though I had no appetite and couldn't finish a meal (hey...there's another upside!). He plied me with juice even though I complained it burned my lips, which are raw from all the open-mouth breathing.

So yet again, I feel I shouldn't complain.

Do you ever feel like you somehow aren't allowed to have EVERY aspect of your life in order? That there's some kind of alarm that sounds on God's desk whenever you're TOO happy?

Like, you may have found the perfect mate, but good luck with the whole "making a baby with him" thing? Or you may have always been told you're smart and capable and a hard worker, but you can't help but feel like your career is just a big pile of time-wasting poo? Or you may be blessed with wonderful friends and family, but your health will always be in question?

Yeah. Me too.

In the meantime, please excuse me. I need to go blow my nose.