Well, okay, so I wasn’t exactly dead in a cave until I rolled back a stone, but I DID sleep with my head under the pillow and I like the Rolling Stones, so it’s similar.
Lord-a-mercy, chillun, if you can at all avoid it, DON’T get the death-crud that’s going around (is it a spring cold? is it the flu? IS IT CAPTAIN TRIPS?). The funk I caught from the Plague-Ridden Child suddenly metamorphosed on Wednesday into one of the worst oh-shit-Imma-gwineter-die sicknesses I have EVER had. So I stayed in bed for 5 days. Seriously, this counts as my 5-year-Cold (I get a really bad cold every 5 years, without fail, which takes at least a week to shake.).
So, I’m back to work now, even though I’m only about 60 percent functional, but it’s a good damn thing, ‘CAUSE I’S ALL BY MYSELF! Apparently, the Plague-Ridden Child did me a favor, and got me out of the building before an even worse funk came through — we’re talking hospital stuff here, people.
So, thank you, Plague-Ridden Child… but if I see you, I’m still gonna punch you in the neck.
PS — Callie Jean LOVES it when Mommy is trapped home sick — especially when the cold medicine has screwed up Mommy’s time sense so she thinks it’s ALWAYS time to feed the cat!