I’m really very tired today. I’m trying not to nap during the day, but I have so many weeks of crappy sleep under my belt that I’m having a hard time staying awake. I’m sleeping a lot better now, thanks I suppose to the Seroquel.
Awhile ago, I wrote a post talking about how I accidentally told my parents about my inability to work. Today, the bill came due.
I received an email from my father offering to have me re-write articles for $3.00 an article. I wrote him back and explained that I barely have the energy or concentration to get done what I need to get done around here. Like cooking dinner and well, showering. (I didn’t say that) Today has consisted of nothing more then dinner and a slightly stressed out hubby. And my anxiety is up and running. And I’m exhausted. I don’t have the concentration to read a book for pleasure, let alone try to re-write someone else’s work.
I’m not dismissing this job for the heck of it. I’ve done it before for my brother for extra money. It’s stressful, it takes a lot of concentration. My husband doesn’t want me to risk my mental health working for minimum wage, I’m not going to risk it for $1.50 an hour. smh
But now, I’m in a position of explaining myself. And I don’t want to explain myself. I shouldn’t have to.
But you watch…this is only the beginning.