A McJob?

I might have a McJob. Not actually at McDonalds. It's much, much worse (or better). I need the money so bad and I need the tax benefits for daycare, so I am going to take it if I get it. I have a proefdag today. WTF is that?

(Hopefully I can do ok despite the fact that I am having a reaction to my medication and I can barely stand up from dizziness. I hate my medicine. I hate it almost as much as the illness. Mental illness. I am mentally ill. I am mental. With this medication reaction, I actually feel crazy - motherfucking crazy, insane and unstable - for the first time in years. My poor kids. They don't know what they're going to get any second.)

Even if I make 50 cents an hour, the tax breaks make it well worth it. God, I hope I don't trip and fall, puke, or lose my hearing, memory or vision. All the charming, CHARMING effects of the "cure." Instead of being a mental deficient, I can be a physical one. YAY DRUGS!!!

I'll let you know.