Why is it, as I'm in process of getting ready for work *in a not-so-productive manner* my son keeps begging me to stay home, and with as crappy as I feel *still recovering from the major fever that started this nasty virus* and as tired as I am *not getting into bed until super late, being up all day* I have to keep telling him that "Mommy has to go to work. I can't afford not to go to work." I feel so bad. All he wants is to spend time with someone who is going to give him attention and play with him, and all I can manage to do is continue chugging along on this very weary track tonight. :( I feel bad for the little bugger...
Who wouldn't want to stay home with a face like this?? Oh well, here's to responsibility at it's worst.
Oh a lighter note, it's Friday and I might manage to walk back in the door sometime nearing 330 in the morning if I'm lucky only to get a few hours of good sleep before the light starts cracking through the window again. At least I *have* a job. There are many others less fortunate who can't complain about the bliss that is mine.
And off to work I go....
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