It gets worse. Or it might get worse. My throat feels as if it might erupt into a full-blown soreness tomorrow, which might indicate that I'm getting a cold. If it is a cold, this won't be my first Christmas with one. The first Christmas that S and I spent together, I had the kind of cold that knocks you on your ass, and knocks you on your ass voiceless. By the end of Xmas Eve, I was completely dead, in that "I'm sick, but it's okay" kind of a way.
The thing about this Xmas is that I've got to work extra hours tomorrow and Thurs. (though if I'm really sick, I won't; I'll just have to deal with it all), because I took yesterday off, a day off that was pre-planned far in advance of the sickness of last week. See, that's the other thing that sucks. I exhausted my sick-time last week, with that little bug (or whatever it was) that had me chained to the couch (and toilet) in pain and misery. And I've got no options tomorrow, because S is coming out to meet me at my work (on the train) and I'm going to then drive us both to meet his mom, who is in town for one night only, and that night is tomorrow. (It's a long story, and I don't really feel like explaining right now, but suffice it to say that we were not supposed to be going to her; she was supposed to be coming to us.)
Anyway, the long and the short of it is that I'm probably getting sick again (and I have a pretty good hunch why, and that is another long story that involves pretty disgusting facts of my life, facts that I'm not sure if I'm ready for my dad and other assorted family members to read), which is incredibly unlucky, no? First my car, then me, and wait, then me again. Remarkably, S hasn't been sick yet, and didn't get sick last time I had a cold, so maybe this one will spare him too. He didn't get that stomach thing (which sort of reinforces the idea that it was something I ate, but still. Yeesh.) either, which is good. He's apparently more hardy than me. I'm pretty sure I would know if he had the stomach thing. But actually, if he got a mild cold, I might not know. He's kind of stoic like that.
But that wasn't the point. The point was: Could my christmas season get any more unlucky? (Knock on wood, cross your fingers, jeez.)
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