Ok. I’m sitting here on my chair, shifting from one side to another. Hips ache. Have slept most of the day. My eyes are on fire. This is not good. Poor Jerry. Yesterday, we went and picked up take out. Hate to admit it.....Fried Chicken! Hadn’t had that in years. Today, he’s having left over take out. Here’s what’s on his plate. Leftover spaghetti, leftover fish taco, and leftover pork and beans. I figure I can get away with it if I give him a tall glass of milk to go with it. He smiled and thought it looked pretty good. That’s bad.

It’s not looking good for my girl trip. NOW, I REALLY WANT TO CRY! Watch out...I may have a pity party. Ok...I’m having my pity party now. Problem is...Jerry doesn’t understand. I asked him to let the dog in...the door is right behind where we are sitting. I just can’t get up. He can’t find the door.

The problem with being a caregiver is that you CAN”T GET SICK. Jerry keeps getting up and down and is walking around looking for the door. I feel so bad .... I just yelled. Poor Jerry. It’s not his fault that I’m sick. God! Won’t you give me just ONE BREAK! There’s the phone. Jerry picked up the phone but doesn’t know how to answer it. It’s my friend....she’s the one I”m riding down with. Now, she’s all bummed. I mean... I’m not asking that Jerry get well....I’ve accepted that....I just want a break! I’m yelling again. I would call this a temper tantrum. Now my nose is so stuffed it feels like it’s a squishy red nerf ball in the middle of my face. Montana is barking to go outside. “Jerry. Will you let Montana out”. He’s frozen. I’ve traumatized him.

Whah, whah, whah! Hey, I am very, very human. I’m going to eat some marshmallows.

13 hours to go.