OMFG – yesterday was just unreal. I should have just stayed in bed all day. But, noooo, I dared to venture out into the abyss that’s known only as “my life”. So, I was up the whole night before hacking my brains out, no clue why, and was fine in the morning, but felt yucko. I had soccer games to go to early, so I had to rush because I was running late, of course. I fill up a huge travel mug of coffee and knock it down – I don’t mean just tip it over. NO – I smack it and it flies – coffee is everywhere – the walls, the counters, the flooor…then the kittens come over to see what it tastes like and my toddler comes over to see what if feels like.

Well, let’s just say between that and the rest of the day, there was a LOT of spillage and breakage. Do you have days like this, where every single thing you touch falls over? So weird.

So, I am at the soccer game and it’s nice. The weather still doesn’t feel like I’m visiting hell and the baby is being really good. We come home and I realize I am getting a rash. No biggie, for some reason I get rashes all the time – stress. So, I head to the store to get benadryl and some other things – some other things adding up to $150 as always.

As I am in the store I notice my rash is spreading – fast. Now they are bright red and hives all over. My arms, hands, legs. It itches and it burns. I walk up to the pharmacist to ask what sort of lotion to get and he looks over at me and quickly hangs up the phone and says, ” HOLY SHIT!”

This does not make me feel better. He tells me to get benadryl, lotion and go home and take a shower. So – long story short – I do and it gets better. What was that all about?

The rest of the day I manage to knock my ashtray – not just off the desk – but, flip it onto the floor. Ashes everywhere – in the keyboard. I am feeling de ja vu from the morning.

I clean it up and try to finish my query letter. OH – we are not done yet – I choke on a damn skittle. I mean, choke. Then I panic because I can hardly breathe. I am gasping for air and my husband looks over at me and calmy says “Are you ok?”

Are you f***ing kidding me? Do I LOOK okay?? He proceeds to walk with me to the kitchen and watch me as I am leaning over the sink and gulping down water. Once I can breathe again he looks at me and says, “Well, I knew you were okay because if you were truly choking you wouldn’t have been able to cough.” What does one say.

I decide to go to sleep. My chest hurts from the night of hacking, my head hurts from coughing, my foot hurts from coffee burns, my throat hurts from choking and I am just afraid to stay up any more.

Good night. Hopefully I don’t have a heart attack in my sleep or something.

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