Trailer Wife

Not to be a big fat complainer, but Good Gods, these last two weeks have taxed every fiber in my being. First of all, it's January. In Fairbanks. Which means that the average temperature hovers somewhere around -20F and we have barely 4 hours of daylight. Turns out that the ONLY thing that will keep your synapses firing under these circumstances is high fructose corn syrup and reality television. So I'm feeling GREAT. And then, Gus gets the worst virus of his short life. Just when I thought diaper duty was the bottom line in infant disgustitude, here comes crustified, glue-like, Garbage-Pail-Kid-worthy emissions from the kid's nose. Not to mention a grumpy streak that lasted ten days and got me around 2 hours of sleep a night. THEN, said virus slithers from said emissions and infects the rest of the family. Perfect.

Seriously, Internet. This was the mother of all flu/cold bugs. Alaska germs DO NOT screw around. I honestly felt at times that I was being violently accosted by angry, territorial bacteria. After a solid week of it, I have only today felt even vaguely human. And still, I think my sinuses have sustained irreparable damage.

And of course, it's perfect timing because I have my MFA app due on Feb 1st, and the GREs to take on the 2nd. And then US-FRAKING-Bank raised our credit card interest rate for no reason, AGAIN! And then I lost one of my 1/2 karat diamond studs, the only remaining evidence that I didn't waste 6 years of my life in the soul-sucking cancer pit that was EBS. And then Howard Zinn died.

And now J.D.??? Jerome David himself??

I can't take anymore. So I'm going to bed until the snow melts. Goodbye.

PS - I'll be back February 1st with a whole month of featured short stories. First on the docket - Antonya Nelson.