She's Come Undone (What, Again?)

I haven't been feeling all that hot lately, I suppose in and around my gut when it comes to anything relating to digestion of any kind. The past week it seems, I haven't been able to eat anything without feeling like I'm rolling a rotting antelope corpse around in my belly. I haven't eaten very much in the last two or three days, and I honestly haven't had much of an appetite anyway. Yesterday after work I had a sandwich down at my local sports pub and spent the rest of the evening fetally curled up in the bed until Joe got home from work. Still have zero appetite but I did manage to meet with the brunch group down at Mary's and had a decent breakfast without threat of mishap -- the first time since before I even went to New York the other week. I didn't get sick in New York either, but I was wary of eating even then. Luckily not a twinge of bellyachin' the entire trip, but a part of me still feels as if I might have gotten off lucky.

Now last night and today I've been suffering a pretty intense sore throat, which I've managed to keep at bay with pain meds and a lot of Chloraseptic. As usual, it's the fear of getting a cold immediately after these things occur, and immediately after the cold... The Death Cough. I've actually had a minor bought of it over the last few weeks that sugar free Halls drops keep maintained to a low roar. But at the rate things have been I'm terrified to wake up tomorrow with a stuffed up face and know what just might follow a week later. I've managed to get through almost a full year without the Hack, especially considering last summer's unbearable strain. I know I'm jumping the gun here, but I know my own track record. Twenty-five years of this I should definitely know. Christ. See why I had to take the part time position at work? The still offered part-time health benefits. I can't afford the Tussionex on my weekly paycheck alone.

By the way, the company screwed over another guy from my store with the same "I'm sorry, you're laid off... oh OH, but luckily a new position just opened up! Your OLD one! And you can work it part time with half the pay!" that they royally reamed me with, and it seems he took the position as well. Fuck. No wonder I feel so damn stomach-achy all the time. I've gained so much weight, stressing, wanting to sleep all the time, with great big acidic balls of poisonous bellyjuice punching holes through my fucking expanding gut. Am I going to have to sustain myself on Pepto-Bismol power bars until the worst is over? When the worst is over?

Feh. Ignore this post, gentle reader(s). I'm cranky and have a sore throat. I was just reading a comic compilation from Dori Seda, who died in 1988 after a bought of the flu exacerbated the silicosis she had growing in her lungs for years, causing her to cough chronically throughout most of her young adult life. Oh, Jesus.

No... ignore that! IGNORE THAT!