What's the world record for misery?

Sigh.  I am STILL typing, and I am SO FUCKING TIRED THAT I COULD JUST DIE. 

Mummers had a colonoscopy this morning, and is currently sleeping in my spare bedroom.

I could not be there because I had to be at work.

I am worried that They are going to find that she is anaemic from intestinal bleeding.

The second half of her colonoscopy is on Wednesday. 

Hard to believe They would have that much faith that someone would go back for Round Two.  That is almost delusionally optimistic, in my opinion. 

When Mom woke up, she told Meg that she wanted a root beer float, and that I had promised her one.

I did not, and have no idea where that came from.

Sometimes the things Mummers comes up with when she is all doped-up after things like this (stents, etc...) make me cry.

I am going to get a root beer float for her just as soon as I can.

Romeo seems ok, but he barfed today and he seems constipated.  I decided to not dose him with Baytril tonight, but I may change my mind on that. 

I am having the worst bout of pelvic pain I have had in like, four years. 

I know that you really wanted to know that.

If it makes you feel better, it is stress from everything; every muscle in my body will go from  0 - concrete in 0.0017 seconds with enough stress.

But it hurts enough that I am crying.

I would take something for the pain, but if the pain goes away, I might well fall asleep.

Can't do that.

Breakfast is almost definitely pregnant.

I have decided within the course of a week that I think (how's that for decision?) that I do NOT like Job 2 any longer.  I have been working from home and avoiding it since Friday. 

Thursday, actually.

As much as a sideways glance from anyone, and I will damn well walk out tomorrow.

I hate hurting like this.  It makes the headache I have seem like nothing, and it also makes me feel like...I don't know.  Worthless, or something. 

No one cares, not even me. 

Harry has a job now; he has had it for a week, and if he can keep it he might be okay financially; in the meantime, he needs $2,000 to get his car back.

And then he still has to make a May or June payment...I could not get a straight answer there, but it is one of the two.

After all the other money I have given him, plus Romeo's bills, I really do not have a spare $2,000 that I can pull out of my ass.  In one tiny week, Romeo has damn near obliterated anything remotely resembling 'pin money' that I had.  Plus some.  And if I dip into my Desperate Calamity money for Harry, eventually I will have none when a Desperate Calamity *does* hit. 

Which, the way my life is going, should happen around 11 May.

This is after my also refusing to pay the however-much in (alleged...this is a long story that I have not had the chance to blog about) back child support (for Muffin, who is over eighteen) so that he can get his licence reinstated on Good Faith that once he got it reinstated he could get some effing court date to get this mistake cleared up.  I do believe it is a mistake, and it would not surprise me in the least to find that someone with Harry's first and last name or Soundex code just turned up on some Deadbeat Dad list, and there is a lazy lady processing suspension requests down at the DMV, or something equally stupid...

If you are thinking that it is hard to believe that there are two people in my city with the name Shit Head, you and I have a similar sense of humour.

However, I trust the government NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST.  They would never give me my money back, and we all know that.

I told Harry to get Glenn Sacks to put his money where his mouth is and lend it to Harry.

Harry managed to get his licence back, and court date or whatever without my money, because it is clearly a mistake.

Shocker.

If I go putting all this shit on credit cards, I will be drowning in debt in no time flat because once I say yes to one thing, what is one more thing?  And one more?  And one more?  And by then, it's so bad that why the fuck not? 

...you know?

I miss having spare time.  I miss it a lot. 

I am sorry to keep whining.  I really, really am.

I am not done yet. 

I have decided that I actually love my advisor, who took my side on something that was really, really important last week.  It was so nice that it made me cry.

But I cried in the bathroom in another college's building, and no one saw.  Or if anyone did see me after, they had no idea who I was.

I hate it when people see me cry.

A lot of things are making me cry anymore.

I am afraid that if I even try to nap, I will wake up and it will be noon. 

Have I won yet?

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