I had a great something something to post today and then I went and waited too late to get it uploaded all fancy like, and since I am clearly only about the fanciest of uploads, it’s going to have to come at your eyeballs on Tuesday. Oh, the anticipation!

In the meantime, let’s talk about how I’ve been sick for 10 straight days. Wait, where are you going? No, really, it’s going to be a great topic, swear. I’ve had a sniffly nose, sore throat (no, but like the SOREST OF THROATS IN THE LAND) and coughy-hack-hack malady since last Friday, and I am o.v.e.r. i.t. I don’t know if you know this, but the more periods you use in a sentence, the more you mean what you are saying. So actually, maybe I should have said

.I. .a.m. .o.v.e.r. .i.t.  .p.e.r.i.o.d. .(s.e.c.o.n.d.p.e.r.i.o.d.).

I have decided that I am not going to be a very fun co-resident for all my nursing home buds once I am old, because I want to complain about my aches and pains all the time. (Relatedly, L is also over me being sick.) But my throats! They hurts like the fire of a thousand burning razor blades on my vocal chords! And oh, the hacking. When I talk I sound like a pack-a-day smoker. Who is a 40-year old man. Rosie was weirded out by it at first, telling me that my voice was “crumpled up in my heart and it can’t get out,” but now she just accepts that I sound like Ursula from The Little Mermaid and has moved on with life.

I have indeed seen a doctor, who poked and prodded and was very doctorly (or, acutally, very nurse practitionery) and she declared it a viral something or other, which is pretty much exactly what I didn’t want to hear because that means there is no nice bottle of chalky elixir that will take away this pestilence like magic.

Anyhoo! I’ll be back here tomorrow, crotchety and kvetchy as ever, but with way better content. Promise.



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