Unnnngh...

I ran out of Nyquil. I was forced to take Dayquil last night instead. Nothing seems to work completely anymore anyway. I spent the night, propped up on several pillows so I could breathe, exhausted but unable to sleep. I wake up long enough to shove the kids off to school, crawl back into bed, only to be awakened by the tile guy. Yes, the same guy. He did the shower once. More recently, he's been working on the floors: bathroom and kitchen. He's still not done. Yeah, I didn't expect anything different. I'm not shocked, angry or whatever. I'm too sick to care. I only get a bit pissy when he gets between me and my cold meds. I've stock-piled them in the living room where I occasionally crash.

I'm so tired from the combination of drugs and lack of sleep. Half of the time I'm sitting/standing there, completely dazed, only to realize that someone's been talking to me. For how long? I do not know. They'll ask me if I'm listening and I'll shake my head "no". Hey, I'm honest! I think I might've even left the room a few times in the middle of some of these conversations. I don't remember. Hell, I'm lucky if I can finish a complete sentence. I find myself trailing off midway and completely losing my train of thought. This blog entry alone has taken me quite sometime and what have I said? Nothing. But that's ok because I never claimed to be an interesting person. Nor did I ever claim to be a writer. I fully accept, and even embrace, my utter suckiness.

And now I will go pass out on the couch again.