Whine
I'm sick. Wheezing. Lungs fulla crud. I can talk, breathe, and stand up — just not all three at the same time. My fella has been busy with his job and secondary making-ends-meet work, so he hasn't been around. (He did send me off with a big bag of juice and water when we parted the other day, though.) My own bits of freelance work and a big bottle of nyquil are keeping me occupied.
Occupied, but still miserable. At times like this, more than anything, I want to go
home. Where that is, though, I couldn't begin to tell you.
Posted by Liz at September 3, 2004 10:39 PM