As it is, well... let's just say it hurts, (along with my head and ears), and leave it at that.
I'm not up for a blitz, though the house could use one, but I'll be thrilled if I can accomplish three things -
* paying the billsBecause these things cause me untold guilt when they are left undone. Ridiculous. But there it is.
* balancing the checkbook, and
* tidying my office.
The Mother Load.
The unpleasant jobs. I would rather clean the toilets than balance the checkbook. The receipts and bank statements are piled next to my desk, and I think they're breeding when my back is turned, because the pile keeps getting bigger. And giving me sinister looks. *sigh*
And those aren't the only unpleasant jobs awaiting me. We had to change our insurance plan a few months ago. Um, downsizing, you know. Kerry handled that, thankfully. And the agent-of-evil from Regence assured him that they would cover his colonoscopies. Except, thank you very much agent-of-evil, they don't. No, not so much.
"Oh, we meant we'd cover routine colonoscopies, not ones you actually need to treat obscure disorders with names that sound like super-cali-fragi-listic-hyper-polyposis." So I get to bicker with the insurance company, the hospital, the doctor, and all the other people who want a wheel-barrow full of money.
And on top of that we are 4 for 5 with being sick. So I'm a broken record, lately.
Find a tissue.
I know we're out.
Use toilet paper. Trust me, it's the same thing.
Blow your nose.
That's disgusting. I said, blow your nose.
Wash your hands.
Because what you just did is rinsing.
Cover your mouth.
And wash your hands again.
So you can see why I get paid the big bucks around here. *eyes roll*