Husband is sick.

Husband is puking his guts out, actually. Has been doing so since last night, and then all day today. Of course, it’s a Saturday in spring so I had to work. And I’m also meant to be back at work tomorrow. However, the fact that his nausea hasn’t relented yet just tells me I probably have to drag him to the doctor tomorrow. Fuck work.

Regardless, I’ve completed my 13-hour wedding shift and must wake up in about 6 hours. I must get up in 6 hours to try and figure out whether I’m back to work for a bit (and then to the doctor), or finding someone else to work for me, or whether husband has managed to make it through a few hours without running to the porcelain god.

I hope it’s the latter. I really hope it’s the latter.



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