"Bastard!!!"

Yes. That was the very first word I heard as I was rudely jostled from my much-needed slumber. No thanks to my mother. It's not the first time it's happened. Imagine your mother's screams waking you up as you curl up under the covers trying to decide if you should go out and assess the situation or hide in the refuge that is your room. When I finally emerged from my cocoon, I found my dad sitting on the steps, head buried in hands. Mother was apparently frustrated by the construction noise going on, which she thought might wake me. How ironic. I was told not to mention the noise or she might (I quote dad), "go off her rockers again".

Add all that to the fact that I'm feeling sick. Physically sick. I suspect it had to do with coming back to a heatwave from a cold climate. I now have my very own sore throat, heatiness, lethargy and a general unwillingness to go to work when normal people sleep. I was so busy last night I hardly had time to breathe and by the time I left work, it was nearly an hour after my shift.

Sanity is a luxury, my friends. I am very, very, very close to giving up.