Hmmph

Yeah, I know, I'm not supposed to whine about someone dying. But, damn it, did someone who was terminally ill for four long years have to die three days before I was supposed to have a weekend away from this area? Yes, that's mean. No, I don't really mean it, only kind of.

Of course the day my friend's stepfather died, I watched her three kids for her. Who wouldn't right? Well, the day before I wouldn't because I felt a little icky and my kid seemed feverish. That day, however, we both seemed fine. Until I came home at 3AM to find my son puking his brains out. Then I started shivering, etc. until 6AM when everything came pouring out of many orifices on my body all at once. I had to call my son's father to come take care of us. He had just paid an $8 toll that means he's nearing the end of his two hour commute. *shrugs*

Thank God he did. Not only were my son and I sick, but my daughter and father had the same damn thing too.

So I exposed my friend's three kids to the flu the day her mother's husband died. And now I'm bitching about my ruined weekend that I was rather unsure about anyway. Yay me!! I'm an asshole. I really wanted to leave the 70 mile radius from my house though. I haven't in seven years.