The return of the repressed, or: No Exit.

Shh, don't say anything, but I may be in a hell of recursion, wherein I get sick, sleep a lot, get better (or "better"), sleep but not quite enough, wake up feeling like contagion is lurking in every corner, then start to sneeze and sniffle and my back starts twinging. I'm just saying: can't a girl get up after almost seven hours of sleep, put on a leopard print skirt and boots, go off to work, do the full day, and not come home with the devil to pay?  

Well can't she?