On My Lonesome

My fiance has packed his bags and left me ... for a week that is. He's off impressing his boss' bosses in the US, while I'm stuck here like a nanna complaining of the wintery weather and how very very cold it is.
I wonder if it's the weather, or a combination of everything, because I'm just feeling down. Tripping over a box and slamming myself into a wall at work didn't help matters either. Briefly this morning, I was feeling so physicaly tired that for a second I thought I had swine flu (quite a possibility since the man I spoke to at work mentioned ever so casually that he may have swine flu after 10 minutes of standing next to the guy. Sigh!). Just didn't want to go to work. I just wanted to stay curled up under all those layers of bedsheets and wish that summer would come. And after my mum convinced me to get up (obviously my half-dead look wasn't convincing enough to get myself a day off work in her books), my parents complained that it was my night shifts for the past three years that have stuffed me up. Yep apparently I haven't been right since three years ago. And to top it all off my fiance calls and says that he's been overindulging in cigarettes and food, as if I'm not already scared that he may drop dead one day because of a heart attack or lung cancer. Stupid, stupid man with no self-control.


Nooooooooooooooooo! For a split second I had a vision of myself becoming like my mum. Nagaholic. It's a good thing I'm the nagger and not the nagee. My fiance has so much to look forward to.