If I could, I'd take a sick day today. Not just from work, which I have to leave for soon, more training- yay- but from life itself. Just call life and be like, "Yeah, this isn't happening today, I'm just not going to be able to make it."
Basically, so many oddly bad things have happened in the three hours I've been awake. Like hundreds of maggots invading our kitchen. Go ahead, read that sentence again. Yes, that really happened.
I don't know. Maybe it's not as bad as it seems, but honestly, it seems really bad. But not over the top so bad that it awakens my inner super woman-I-can-do-anything type of bad. Just the blah-it's-not-worth-taking-another-step type of bad. I kind of wish it were the death and dismemberment type of bad because then it's easy to be like "Hell no! I'm going to kick this death and dismemberment in the ass! RAWR!" Instead it's kind of a muffled sob wondering what's next.
So, there should be sick days from life. But there's not. So I'm going to go to work, and hope that the bad stays at home.