I Need Death. Really.

Okay, so on Friday I worked from 0800 to 1830. On Saturday I worked from 0730 to 1930. With a crippling flu. On Sunday I worked from 0645 till 1300 then took pills and passed out. Today I worked from 0600 till 2015. Tomorrow I work from 0730 to around 2000. I still have the flu. And am sore.

Seriously, it's unhealthy and if I bothered to check the award I'd probably be able to sue or something, but it's the last week before uni goes back and I need t3h cash. I also need to not be stoned on 2000mg of paracetamorel but it's the only thing that helps. My body hurts all over, my hands are cut and mangled and I feel nauseous all the time.

I have severly elevated cholesterol and high blood pressure. I may also be insulin resistant which is not only hereditary (half my extended family have it) but also the preliminary stages of diabetes. Oh and I'm also about 40kgs overweight. I have stated that I am now on the weight losing thing. What was awaiting me for lunch yesterday, before I passed out in bed from the flu? Vegetarian lasagne and fucking CHIPS! Chips = carbohydrate = sugar which I DON'T FUCKING NEED!!!! Thanks mum. Well the lasagne was made with reduced fat cheese, so I ate it (was filled with spinach and carrot anyways). Left the chips. What was awaiting me for dinner? SAUSAGE *FUCKING* PIE!!!! (Sausages sliced and layered with sliced tomatoe and tinned spaghetti layered with mashed potato on top, baked in the oven). The fucking FATTIEST kind of FUCKING MEAT available, let alone the fucking POTATOES on the top!!!!! Oh and the spaghetti which is fucking carbs again. I found some salad in the fridge and pointedly ate that commenting on the unhealthiness of the fucking pie.

Guess what was awaiting me for dinner tonight after I arrive home after a 14 hour day? FUCKING SAUSAGE FUCKING PIE!!!!! I had vegetable soup with the veggies off the sausage pie plate chopped up and chucked in for extra food.

What the fuck is wrong with my family? My mum fucking harps on at me about my weight and then when I decide to do something about it she gives me fucking lasagne and fucking chips, then a fucking fat filled starch topped shit pile. So much for support. I weighed 135kg at the doctor last Wednesday when she weighed me. Let's see how much I can lose before the end of the year...

Without my mother's fucked up cooking. I mean, seriously!