Well ain't this a good ol kick to the head. Literally.
To start it off, last week was convention week for me. Because of the weather, there was storm delays on my friend's and boyfriend for their flights. Then, when they actually got to the hotel, around midnight, bf's card had issues to where he could not pay for it all then and there. Thankfully one of our friends covered it. Me on the other hand, I had a difficult time parking because the only spots left were spots blocked by road cones and handicap spots. Reason why? Oh some ass fuck with his truck and trailer took up nine spots.
The next day had the usual nonsense of first day crowd issues, what with half of the people just showing up for day one to grab stuff and book it. Other than that, things went by okay enough. It is also how I discovered how I did not know what a sweet pea flower looks like when decorating cupcakes. Made something completely different.
On day two, things were getting better, aside from me somehow flooding the bathroom a bit and the light in said bathroom flickering off and on, leading to both of us showering in the dark a bit. Not a whole lot of issues going on that would be considered crucial. Up until after date night at a steak place. Upon our return, bf and I go back to our room and were ready to get back into bed and relax. Only to find out that somehow, the fucking deadbolt got stuck on the door.
Basically we were locked out of our room and had no legal way to get back in. I say legal because I was on the verge of destroying the deadbolt myself. Tried to explain what had happened, but person in charge of the desk that night said our friends were in there and told us to stop lying and fuck off. Bitch, our friends had rooms on the fourth floor! We were the only ones on the fifth floor!
In the end on that bullshit, bf and I stayed in one of our friends room for the night as we waited for maintenance in the morning to get our room open. This is where things get bad. The room we stayed in was much colder than my bf could handle and he started feeling sick again. I say again because he got sick five days before the trip. And he was actually getting better. Then this shit happened.
We still went to the con, but at some point later into the day, I see a message in the group chat that he isn't doing so hot and needed to go back to the hotel. Given that I share the same room with him, I went back. His condition got worse to where he started vomiting.
To where my con days were done then and there along with his as I spent the rest of that night and the next day lurking near to supply water and any food he could be able to digest.
Upon my return from the con, I immediately started my new job. To where I should have not done that. I was fine the whole day. Then later into the night is where everything started to hurt and the illness hit me like a freight train. Not sure what all it is, I am speculating towards one of the new variations of covid as the last time I legitimately got covid, all of my taste defaulted to the taste of plastic. The reason why I say speculating is because bf just got tested and his results are negative. So either I am more unlucky, or something goofed. I don't know.
So... great. Was suppose to start my new job, now might get fired from it because of illness.
This is why I hate money and debts. I went this extreme to start earning a paycheck only to get slapped back hard.
| Viewed: |
2 times |
| Added: |
1 week, 4 days ago
06 Aug 2025 17:52 CEST
|
|
|
