Sick-boy, in his faded blue jeansSick-boy, black leather jacket scene

That's it. I'm packing my bags. Turning off my cell phone. There is no forwarding address. I am done...with life. I can't take it anymore.

This Baby is sick AGAIN. This whole month has been like this and this is the 4th time his fever has shot up over 102. Daycare won't take him anymore. I ended up having to check him into a hospital today so they could take care of him. They didn't want him either. They called me to tell me that he has major separation anxiety. Ya think? THat hysterical screaming I can barely hear you through was a dead giveaway actually. He just doesn't like strangers. I don't blame him.

I had a mini breakdown on the phone with the doctor because I just don't know what to do. All this sick - all this time off - it's making me nuts. I still have to pay the massive amount of $$ for daycare even if he doesn't go. My job is pretty ticked too. Should I not work? But I have to. No daycare? But I have no choice.

I feel awful and cry-y. I just want to slip away and no one will even remember that I existed. Instead I think I will eat Trader Joe's peppermint creams until I barf or pass out on the floor. Maybe when I wake up this will all be a dream and the Baby will be fine and I will be a millionaire. Right.

I have no happy ending to this post. So instead I'll just show you a picture of the Kid putting pig sprinkles on his ice cream cone. At least he's not sick. Knock on wood. No - seriously - someone knock on it. I need all the help I can get.
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