Dear God...

[logansrogue]

Dear God,

I feel like being sick. Mainly because my breakfast so far has been half a cup of coffee over a nice antibiotic. The second reason, agitating the first, is that I'm up yonder Shite Creeke, without that proverbial paddle I really really need.

You know why, You know everything, but for my own peace of mind, let me go on, shall I?

I have an interview with my job network people on the 5th of December. That day was a Friday. I spent that day writhing in agony in various spots in the house (Kitchen, whilst trying to prepare heating devices for my stomach, or just swallowing ineffectual pain-killers, or sitting on the toilet just so my bowels could relax for two seconds and not cramp up, or just lying in bed wishing I could sleep off the cramps). The next day was the same - in fact I spent four days in total cramping in agony.

I don't know what You have against me, but Dude - that was one heavy period. I'm not used to periods like that. I'm not used to such pain. Usually it's one day of cramping - two at the most - and it's life as usual. But I accepted it. I knew I had a week to look for four jobs. I was cool.

I spend about two days or more relaxing and getting over the four most painful days of the year (or what I thought were). Thursday I go to a Popstars audition.

Friday I have tonsilitis.

Monday I'm toxic and need to see the doctor.

Thursday again, and I'm not violently ill anymore but I still can't eat more than a small serve of food at any one sitting without feeling sick. I don't know if it's these antibiotics or what, but it's taking me time to get my appetite back. The very thought of walking all the way into Fremantle makes me want to be sick all over again.

I entertain the thought of going, as maybe I'll collapse on the way there. And whilst I'm carted off in the ambulence, I'll have nice solid reasons why I couldn't make the interview.

They'll probably ask for my fucking application records anyway.

Sorry God, I know I shouldn't swear in front of You. Oh well - You know I do it anyway, right? Right. Honesty is the best policy, especially when keeping up relations with your One Awesome Deity.

Now, here's where I face a conundrum. I could just ring my job interview guy, and say, "Hey. Hi. Let me tell you about my rotten health issues the past two weeks, shall I?" But there are problems.

1) He's a guy. He so doesn't want to hear about my awfully bad period.
2) Tonsilitis. Tonsilitis. God - after cramps? This sounds like a High School Phys-Ed lesson letter.
3) I just wish I remembered that mother-fucking Doctor's Certificate on Tuesday!!
4) That certificate wouldn't have made up for Jack Shit because there's still a week of unaccounted time.
5) I don't even know if there's BEEN two weeks since the last meeting. No. I don't think there has been.
6) HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!! *sobs*

Dear, sweet, merciful God... you know I'm not slacking off, or being a lazy shit. You know that I really have been in awful health this past week and a half. Look at me. I'm so skinny I could be a supermodel. Except for the stomach. But still - you know that ain't right. Usually I'm chunky like Xena! I'm scared if I call my Jobsearch officer guy, he'll get pissy at me like they all did over that childcare debacle. I'm afraid of them all now, I don't trust them.

Anyway, I really am in deep manure. I know there are people in this world with far worse problems than mine. Some people don't have food, or money, or tickets to see Return of the King, or even know what Return of the King IS (Yes, I'm being humourous... it's my coping mechanism). But considering how miserable I've felt over the past while... can I please, pretty please, be given a break?

...?

Uhm.

Okay. *sigh* I hate life. But I don't hate You.

*waves* Till next time.

Your humble spark of something,
Nacey.