The hits just keep coming

We’ve established that I have a broken lawnmower and three weedeaters that don’t work right.

Now, I don’t know where my vacuum cleaner is. I suspect that it is wherever Sunshine dropped it when he got done cleaning out his truck. I’m not going to look for it, when I get tired of hair tumbleweeds in the floor of the magic bus, I’ll make him go find it.

The credit card is once again maxed out because I had to go buy some stuffs today to help me get through whatever is going on with me physically. I can barely get any solid food down; probably because the heat, humidity, and pollen have combined with my COPD to get my entire respiratory tract all inflamed and irritated. As much as I would love to lose one-third of my body weight, I also realize that it wouldn’t end well. So, I had to go get some meal replacement shake mix powder shit to put in my milk for breakfast and lunch.

I have no idea how I made it through my shift at work today, and I really have no fucking clue how I’m going to get through tomorrow. I am grateful that my boss is so awesome that he told me to let him know if I just couldn’t do it. He said nine times out of ten it isn’t a problem, so I was to be honest with him about it. I’ll power through tomorrow because I know that he has something planned ad my coworker is out of town. After that, I will be needing a day or two of nadazerozipzilchnothing.

It has to get better soon, right? It can’t always be this hard.


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