Friday, February 15, 2008

Friday is for sneezing.

Due to the recent "security" concerns at my work, I have reset my password to everything work-related, but am still "locked out" of my work e-mail. I will contemplate whether that is a bad or a good thing, as I have been laid low by a new cold. This cannot be fair. I ask you.

When we got home from our whirlwind trip to Idaho, which, by the way, is a dang cold place, and where a restaurant called Smitty's ("Pancake and Steak House") closed at 8 p.m. on a Thursday night which happened to be Valentine's Day, I fell into bed after greeting a very excited Bruiser and slept the sleep of the infected for several hours. I got up, cautiously, thinking that perhaps I was feeling better--but it was an illusion, the kind of "maybe I'm not feeling so bad" delusion that comes after a three hour nap, after which you get up, rustle up a little snack, look at the paper, etc., and then you have a big attack of whatever it is that's ailing you, like it wants to teach you a lesson of who's boss.

This evening has been (a) DayQuil, (b) hot-and-sour soup that the historian fetched for me, (c) television with a side of dognap. Wow. The historian and I are supposed to celebrate our anniversary (which was Monday) tomorrow, nine years' worth of happy marriage, and I'm hoping for (1) a miraculous recovery, or (b) a successful self-dosage of OTC medications, either of which might approximate enough good health to allow for a little downtown action, a little revelry.


  1. Happy Anniversary! And sorry you're still ailing. Hope those OTC drugs work.

  2. You need to feel better soon! From what I've heard about the funeral, it was lovely.



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