This is what my horoscope says today:
Recent changes have given you more responsibility. Don't be worried -- be flattered!
V has picked up viral 'flu and has been out of circulation since Saturday. Well, almost. If he hadn't danced around the house on Saturday evening -- I use the term 'dancing' in a very loose sense, obviously -- writing Jeeves and Wooster DVDs, he might not have had an utter relapse.
In other words, I'm more than a little pissed. When I'm in front of him and have to see his woeful face, obviously, I cannot be too mad -- so I decided not to skip work today (I had important training classes lined up anyway).
In any case, what really got my goat was the chicken pox scare. It's been going around and a whole bunch of ppl in V's office picked it up. I told him a weekend ago, to get the vaccination done, since he didn't have the brains to get it over and done with when he was younger, but he managed to evade it. Then, on Friday afternoon I get a call from him saying he's not feeling that great, so he's going home early from work, and he suspects it might be the pox.
This is the sort of thing that traumatises women into giving birth to 2-headed babies and gives them nervous tics.
Anyway, to cut a painful story short, none of the little red sores appeared, and when I finally packed him off the doctor yesterday evening (accompanied by our landlord from upstairs and one of V's childhood friends, so stop making me out to be the heartless wife yet again) he came home with the news it was only the 'flu. Idiot.
But, on a more serious note, this entire episode just confirmed what I was starting to believe -- I simply cannot work a regular job while the kids are small. I can't go to work and spend the entire day worrying about how they are doing, if they are eating. If I'm this concerned about a 30 year-old idiot who doesn't deserve any TLC, what will I do when faced with a sniffly 2 yr-old who has the 'flu?
Which means, thanks to the 30 yr-old (ok, 29, but that's as good as) idiot, I now have to reconsider all my career plans for the next five years.
Now you know why I'm not my bright li'l usual self.
Going for the USG this evening. Hoping V's wrong and we're not having twins. If we are, why, that's one more reason to pray for an early, merciful death. That and the fact that I seem to have been born a generation too late and missed sleeping with the Beatles as well as Pierce Brosnan.