You know your day is going to shit when:

You are awakened at 7 am by the sounds of what appears to be your son puking in the bathroom. No, no, not puking (thank god, I'll shoot myself if that shit starts again)....that snarfling and gagging sound is him trying to blow his nose complete with an accompaniment of moaning and groaning.

You have a nagging feeling you are supposed to BE somewhere. You assume it's the bank to deposit the check you've been waiting on for 2 weeks!

Your phone rings and as soon as you see the name on the caller ID you remember where you where supposed to BE. *FUCK* Gah! I never do that. I'm blaming PROVO for getting us off schedule! Though I did remember to email last night to make sure it was today.... but forgot to go back and check for the answer. *Double GAH!*

This day has got to get better. From the sounds coming from the living room, maybe not so much. For me, with my el crapo lungs, having a sick child is a killer. I want to comfort him and do all the *stuffs* we do for a sick one. (Though he isn't little and cuddly anymore.) On the other hand I want to send him to the garage with a space heater and a warm blanket, setting his meals on the back steps for him while wearing gloves and a mask. *Ha*
I just can't risk catching his crud. Yet I can't just leave him to fend for himself, he's a baby still. *HA* Ok, MY baby still.

So we're off to screw up some more of this day. Looks like medication is in order. Ohhh and call the pharmacy. Good god I need a secretary.