… because I feel like crap.
Other than a few episodes of sour spit-up, I haven’t thrown up, but the gag reflex is definitely in full force. I had a small breakfast this morning because the thought of eating anything just felt … yucky. Nothing tastes good. I need to go home for lunch, but the thought of eating the yummy chicken, pasta, and veggie leftovers from last night just makes my stomach turn.
I think I’ve gained several pounds of boobage. I wish I could leave the boobs at home while Sheltowee and I go hiking next week.
I’m exhausted. My mind is in a fog. I feel like crap.
Speaking of crap, I donned my big, yellow latex gloves this morning and cleaned out the litter boxes. This will be my third day in a row using the gloves. They work pretty well. After doing the litter, I keep the gloves on and wash my gloved hands in hot, soapy water.
I called the doctor yesterday to see if the results of my blood test had come in—they did a non-required (read: not covered by insurance) test to see if I had the immunity I need in order to be able to clean the litter boxes. The test will cost about $180. All that, just so Sheltowee won’t have to clean the litter boxes.
I sure hope Sheltowee appreciates me. (I’m being facetious when I say that. I know he appreciates me.) It just breaks my wifey heart to think of Sheltowee’s soft, gentle hands being soiled by airborne poop particles.
Speaking of Sheltowee, I’m ready for him to come home. He’s been at camp for work all week. I miss him when he’s gone, but I miss him even more when he’s gone and I feel like crap!
Well, this has been a crappy blog post. (Ha ha.) Maybe the next one will be better.