That cold I was complaining about. Is.totally.kicking.my.ass.

I'm more than a little relieved that my Friday job cancelled. Ok don't tell, but I'm like THANK FUCKING GOD they canceled. My new best friend is my oxygen machine. I'm like tied to the damn thing and not in a good way ya know?

If my line gets hooked on my chair one more time and I almost rip off my nose, I might cry.

My lungs sound like an old geezers battle zone. With all the wheezing and popping and gurgling going on in there you'd think I was percolating. *Ding* Coffee's done.

I have a really sick goat and I don't give a damn. No no it's not that I REALLY don't give a damn, it's that I can't muster the energy to care. I DID something about it, I gave G a fatty shot and said, "here stick her with *cough*wheeze*hack* this and put some *hack*wheeze* hay in with....... *gasp for air*wheeze*wheeze*wheeze* her." Shit. It takes me like 3 minutes to finish a damn sentence if I get worn out first. And by wearing me out, that means walking more than 5' or coughing more than oh, twice.

So yeah, tomorrow, after running to get some milk for the babies, I'm sitting here on my machine and doing nada. Maybe a little nothing, but that will be pretty much it. If I can have my way that is.

So tomorrow will be the day the fence will fall down, the goat will get sick, the roof will blow off, the water will break, the barn will catch fire (again) and Bill will get hurt at work.