That's us. Having a helluva week here in the Baby Squared household. Yeah, yeah, we're not starving in the streets at the hands of an oppressive regime or dying on the barricades. And honestly, both A. and I have managed to keep our sense of humor and sanity. But it's certainly been theatrical. The dramatis personae:
Yours Truly (as Fantine): Compelled to work long, extra hours prostituting myself for the advertising agency I work at, in hopes of winning some new business for the firm. The company is fundamentally strong, but like every business, feeling the pressure of the recession. On Monday, we found out we're all getting pay cuts (temporary, hopefully, and not too drastic, but still.) That same day, on the way home from work, the engine light in our 13-year-old Honda Civic went on. Yet again. We just can't justify putting any more money into a car with 169,000 miles on it. Meanwhile, I'm still plagued by clogged sinuses and ears and a sore throat; was officially diagnosed with an ear infection today. Surely tuberculosis and hallucinations can't be far off.
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