Home is where things stay open 24 hours

So, I'm having a homesickness crisis that, I'm sure, has more to do with being sick for TWO DAMN weeks than actually hating it here. I got up this morning after a night of dry coughing and hitched up my too-big pants with my belt which I can now fasten at the third notch. When I got here I could barely get it past the first...now that I've expelled about five extra pounds of weight in under 48 hours, I'm having trouble fitting into my clothes...and appreciating the free gift. I worked out for two months straight to lose my first 7 pounds of too much beer and eating from this summer...and after 48 hours of body numbing vomiting, I'm (probably...at least) five more pounds lighter...and worse for the wear. Liam commented that maybe it's a blessing (not that he notices my size. I'm always wingeing about losing a few more pounds, and he's always looking at me like I'm out of my mind), and I responded that it would be more of a blessing if I could easily walk up a flight of stairs without getting dizzy. THIS is why they say its unhealthy to lose it fast. I have no energy. I was sifting through papers and making phone calls today, and at one point, I got winded. I know I should just eat a burger, but the trouble is...the thought makes me tired. I'll get there. I ate two cookies after dinner tonight, and didn't feel queezy at all afterwards. SO...home-sickness. Yeah. I made my way to the tube today, under a sky that might have been sunny, if it weren't for the insufferable clouds overhead, actually got a seat on the picadilly line (the trick is to leave way too early for work), but I didn't get a seat on the circle line. Why does that part of King's Cross station always smell like a freakin' bathroom? Is it just me? Anyway, the work didn't stop today, and, as a result, I found myself realizing why I've never aspired to be a PA in my life. I had a minor meltdown on the phone with Liam at lunch when he explained to me that the only place to get good cough medicine was at the pharmacy, but they close at 5....thirty minutes before EVERYONE gets off work. TELL ME HOW MUCH SENSE THAT MAKES? How the HELL do you get what you need if you can only get it during working hours and you happen to be, like EVERYONE ELSE, a person that MUST work to live. I cried a little because I need some medicine to suppress this dry cough that's keeping me up at night, and remarked that England isn't really a free country...because if it were, I could go to the drug store whenever I damn well pleased. SOCIALISM...BASTARDS. Why is it so good in so many other ways? HMPH. I want to go to Target, and when that closes, I want to go to Walgreens, and if I can't find it there amidst the singing toothbrushes and horrible Tennessee t-shirts, I want to drive to Mississippi to get it at Wal-Mart (and then not tell ANYONE). The light at the end of the tunnel? I'm making a great deal more in this job than I was in the last temp job. My temp agent tries to sugar coat everything so much to make it sound like they've done me a big favor when they actually get me a job that pays what I stated I needed to make in the beginning. It's a good thing we communicate mostly by phone so she can't see me rolling my eyes. Liam is jealous, but I've reminded him what I'm actually doing for a living and that it only lasts until the end of the month...when the real PA gets back from her holiday in australia...her month-long holiday....because you can do that here....take a month off if you like.....damn socialists. If only it didn't rain every single day...