Get thee unto Pharaoh in the morning.

Bipolar Auntie arrived last Thursday, and has brought with her English crisps, chocolates, and the bubonic plague.

in case y'all need a recap: the Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse, from left to right: Loud Auntie, Mumsy, Anorexic Auntie, and Bipolar Auntie

Bipolar Auntie went down on Friday night and is only just now recuperating. Mumsy went down last night and was forcibly dragged by me to the emergency room this morning due to the state in which I found her when I went upstairs to make tea. She is home again and medicated for the pain and nausea. Lil Sis was struck this afternoon and is currently writhing around on the bathroom floor. 

I have been on call for the last 72 hours to bring buckets/water/gatorade/disinfectant and drive to and from the hospital, the pharmacy, and the grocery store. 

If I happen to catch whatever they have, they are all well and truly fucked. 

BUT I AM OF THE BLOOD OF THE ANCIENT CELTS, THE BRITONS, AND THE NORTHMEN. 

I shall not fall. Feck this plague and the plane it flew in on. 

I'm le tired.

This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this.

Why are some of us afflicted with such irrational emotions over inanimate objects?

I almost had a small meltdown at work this morning, when the new scale came for the post machine. Just because of the instructions for replacing the broken scale:

 I felt bad for the broken scale. I didn't want it to be sad. I almost kept it.

There's something wrong with me.

I have acquired a new vehicle.

It's a Prius, which means it is excellent on petrol. It is also going to cost me $318 a month for the next five years, which means I am probably never going to be able to afford to move out of my mother's house, which means my rate of survival has now dropped to somewhere around 20%.

I shall henceforth spend my evenings hiding in a corner listening to my new records.

don't judge me