My 16 year old granddaughter is ill. She's running a fever of 102. She tested negative for the flu and strep, but the blood work showed it is definitely viral. We have no available testing for Covid-19. She's at home and my daughter is taking care of her. I'm worried sick.
Also, I lost my job yesterday, part of a massive layoff at my company. I know I'm not the only one who's lost a job in this insane time and I have much to be grateful for. But sometimes I feel like Sisyphus; pushing the boulder up the hill and sliding back every single time. I will be able to file for unemployment after a week waiting period, and I'm grateful that I will have that.
Of course, the opportunistic little addicted lady in my brain has been very active lately. Yesterday when I filled up my car with gas I stood there for a full three minutes thinking "I could by cigarettes here." I've been quit for over five years and damn if she doesn't show up every time I'm super stressed. She wants me to romanticize the smoke, to believe I'll feel better if I light up "just one," to buy into the idea that it would relax me, and that no one would have to know. But I know what I know. I know there's no such thing as "just one." I know that I would kill a beautiful five-year-on-to-forever quit. And I know that I would tell you all. So NOPE -- I don't do that anymore.
