This is a horrible day. I'm sick, I'm tired (slept very badly), I have SO much work to do. Kevin's help: "You can work late." As in, I will approve your overtime. Yeah, thanks for freaking nothing, because I am not working late. Unless you want to see me puking in my trashcan because I'm trying to work through dinner. F that. I am getting NO support at work, and it is driving me crazy. The piles of work on my desk are all so tall, that I've had to start piling things on the floor. My filing is completely out of control, I have three cases on the verge of getting dismissed, some dip shiz client leaves me a voicemail saying, Can we reschedule my hearing, because I can't go. And another client asking for what TIME his docs were filed. As if he's getting a call back. Ha. And then Brenda drops a paper on my desk - the credit card bill, with $209.00 as my only clue and wants me to find out what it is! Do I look like your f-ing crystal ball Brenda? I need to go home and go to bed. I'm on the verge of tears. This blows.
I had been feeling pretty good, because despite the morning sickness, my hormones have seemed pretty controllable. Until today.