It’s raining again.
I actually like the sound of rain hitting the roof in a rhythmic pattern. Clickety clackety…like the sound of popcorn being popped under a blanket. Just add a dash of wind and some distant thunder and it’s my favorite recipe for a good night’s sleep.
Unfortunately, during this time of the year, when the weather can’t decide if it wants to be hot or cold, dry or wet, it’s also a recipe for getting sick.
I seem to have caught whatever bug has been running around Twitter this week. Oh don’t ask me how I caught a virus over the internet…you know it can happen. My ears hurt, my throat hurts, and I’ve developed a more pronounced whine than normal. I suddenly can’t understand why my husband won’t wait on me hand and foot, or why he refuses to feel my forehead every few minutes to check for fever.
Make no mistake about it…there is fever.
I’m even too sick to respond to the multitude of butt jokes filtering in after last night’s blog. And believe me, I want to respond. I want to come up with witty one-liners to counter things like, “Don’t be bummed about it…I’m still your biggest fanny.” Or “Mind if I crack a joke at your expense?” I want to…butt I can’t (well I slipped that one in.) My sore throat has blended in with my meatball lava burns to create a pain center that encompasses my entire upper region. My hiney bite mark is just a nasty bruise at this point, but I’m reminded of it every time I sit. And as sick as I was today, I couldn’t rush out to buy a new seat, so I’m forced to carefully navigate the one I have without getting caught again, like some cheap gas station version of Russian roulette.
All that and it’s only Tuesday! What does this say for the rest of my week? Should I up my life insurance? Or maybe play the lottery? Because it would seem my number keeps coming up.
A perpetual “tails” in the coin toss of life.
Oh well…it’s all just bonus blog material, that’s what I always say.
Until the next time…I’ll be taking lots of over the counter cold meds and going to bed!