Exhaustion thy name is ... me!

I'm tired ... genuinely tired.  After working my regular 9 -5 job as a Health Information Technician (or medical records paper pusher, as I like to call it), I can hardly see what I'm typing.  So, if something doesn't make sense, forgive me ... my head is in a fog.  And a worse fog than usual.

When I decided to go back to work 5 years ago (after a 15 year absencse) I didn't think I could do it ... both physically and mentally.  5 years later, my mind is shot and my body is wearing down by the day, so I guess I was right. 

Let's be honest, I was born to be a Queen.  I have royalty in my DNA and through some strange mix-up, when the world was created, I got robbed.  Sometimes, I watch these celebrities in their multi-million dollar homes, with their servants at their "beck and call" and I can, actually, close my eyes and see myself in their place.  It's almost like a previous life.  Like I really messed up something awful in a past life and had to start all over, at the bottom, when I was reincarnated.  It's not fair.

And now, besides the 9 - 5, I've started writing the blog again, as well as, my work for the Examiner.com (see the link "my other job" in the side bar).  I figure I have a good 5 years of pushing myself to my limits, before I give out or the people I work with just shoot me.  I guess they can only take so much of my constantly sunny disposition (see past posts) ... lol.

But, I really don't have much choice.  Finances being what they are, it's either this or the poor house.  Sorry, sometimes I forget how old I am.  For those youngsters, who stumbled upon this and can't stop reading about the train wreck I call my life, a poor house was a place where local cities and towns would send the destitute and people who can no longer pay their bills.  In general, not nice places.

I do have one other option, but my husband is not really enthusiastic about it and discourages the suggestion everytime I make it.  My idea is for my husband to become a male prostitute and sell his ass and I can be his pimp.  Believe it or not, we do have some experience with this, but that's a tale for another day. But, like I said, despite his dashing good looks and magnificient butt (imagine a combination of Kevin James and "The Rock", minus "The Rock"), he still rejects the idea.  Who knew he was such a prude.

But, my life has always been like diarrehea.  It comes, and comes and you go and you go, until there's nothing left and your completely spent.  You feel okay when your done, but just wait, before you know, the cramps will come again.