I ran out of food. Dammit.
Post vacation busy-ness turned into post vacation depression turned into rampant disease. In any case, I’d not really had a chance to get to the grocery store and the food I did have was either too complex to make easily or gone bad in the fridge.
My dad’s wife came to the rescue. YAY FOOD. I threw the ingredients in the machine for a loaf of bread, she brought me soup and juice and a rotisserie chicken. I spent the day having only consumed coffee and mexican hard candy. My belly is full, I have a little more energy, but I’m gonna take some codeine cough medicine before bed.
maybe I’ll actually sleep in my bed tonight.

Around 2am I fell asleep. I decided earlier in the evening that I would watch the Star Wars Trilogy (the original 3 not the craptacular series of emotionally stunted metal masturbation movies Lucas made recently). I fell asleep almost immediately after I put Return of the Jedi in. Of course I fell asleep on the sofa again. Woke up at 5:30, coughed up someone else’s diseased lungs. Coughed until my head pounded in agony.
Coughed until I cried.
Moved to my bed and made a warm cuddle sandwich with the dogs. Having two dogs totally redeems itself when you are sick. There is nothing quite as comforting as warm, furry dog sleeping against your back and belly.
I’ve not been this sick in over a year and I think now would be a good time to die.
oh, and if I die, don’t forget to blame my boss, he’s the one who got me sick. I just want to keep mentioning that so that no one forgets that after sacrificing years of my life to my job, my boss killed me.

there has to be a term for the total delerious logic that comes in to play at 3 in the morning. You know when you’re laying in bed and your whole body aches and you keep coughing up hellish loogies?
You know you’re all uncomfortable and no matter how you toss and turn you just cannot get to sleep so yorur super logical, cold addled brain kicks in and you decide “hey, I should sleep on the couch! that makes so much sense!!!”
You gather up the dogs and the blankets and the pillows and you head to the living and on the way you decide to turn on every single light! It makes so much sense! What if you have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, you will need every single light on. And if you decide to go back to bed you need every light on so you can turn them off in the right sequence or you won’t be able to sleep. It all makes sense at 3 in the monring and your brain has been attacked by a biological weapon the size of delaware.
Wanna know what else makes sense when you’re sick and you need to sleep on the sofa with all the lights on and the dogs crowdeed around you? Putting a dvd on! Great idea! Put the Simpsons in, bundle up with the dogs, let the over-animated conflicts of middle class suburbia battle it out with your virus tainted psyche as you drift in and out of uncomfortable sleep.
At 9:30 you go back to your bed for 2 hours of real sleep and then start the day over.
and curse your boss and his underage mad genius kids that create these biological weapons.

Last night I went to bed with a bit of a cough. This morning I woke up with a full blown cold.
My boss gave me this cold. I think he is a jerk for giving me this cold. Nothing sucks harder than a summer cold, not even a 12 year old in Bangkok.
I feel like a shit parade just got re-routed on my soul. I ended up staying in bed until 11. I called Patti, we made plans, I went to take a shower and sat down on the bed for a second.
Fell asleep for another hour. Called Patti and cancelled the plans.
Walked down to the coffee shop with Ghengis, then took him over to the lake and walked a bit. Came home and crashed again. Talked to David for a long long time. Made dinner and figured 1/2 of asparagus probably negated the negative health aspect of the Italian sausage (which actually is not all that bad since I did make the sausage myself and it is completely without nitrates and preservatives and blah blah blah)
The downside of not doing anything is that my house is still a mess.
The upside is that I am almost done with Mary’s baby blanket set.
And now I have to make some theraflu and get ready to take the dogs on another walk.

The mythical and legendary Irish Boy is coming to Minnesota in a week or so.
Wow.
Damn.
Perhaps there will be a party. I’ll keep you posted.