Plaguewatch: Day 7

To be accurate, it is most likely Day 9 of plague watch, since Mother’s Day Sunday I developed a sore throat and that Monday it bloomed into something that I thought might be somewhat strepolicious. However, the sore throat was nothing (and gone by Tuesday) compared to the SEVEN DAYS OF CONSTANT HACKING that have been going on. I tell you, I am damned tired of dredging up lung butter from the darkest depth of my bronchi (yourwelcome). Been there, done that, horked up a lobe. Flying alveoli are so yesterday’s news already, this cold needs to get itself gone.

On the plus side, I am going to have one set of sweet abs by the time this is all over. Yessiree, I’ll be styling in my rippling six pack and enormous ass. Too bad you can’t work out the butt muscles while lying in bed at 3 in the morning while you try to cough your toes out through your mouth.

So yeah, not much a happening around here unless it involves flying phlegm, snotty noses or anything with a giant Q in the brand name. The medicinal swill continues and I am so Robotussin’s bitch. Mmmm, cough suppressant and expectorant (which, in my mind seems like competing forces, but hey. It seems to work and that I am not questioning). Goes good with a fine Shiraz chaser.

We did do a few things, mostly I bemoaned my lungal rebellion and anything else that made me unhappy, which was most everything (make you want to be TheMan no? Lucky, lucky fella). The cats got on my shit list for refusing to come in or near the bedroom both nights (instead choosing to throw their lot with TheMan in the living room. Bastards) despite my many promises of kitty scritchies and all good things cat. You would think that maybe Isaak, natures most codependant aloof cat, *might* spend some of the night with his ailing cat mom but no (little shit). Would. Not. Come. Near. The Room. Either of them. See if I give anyone cat scritchies ever again. OhHO! So you need some cat love eh? What about ME? Huh? Remember last weekend and the disappearing cat trick? Go get your cat love from the damned couch, you little ingrates, it was good enough for you then. BAH!

(Oh, and TheMan was sleeping on the couch because he loves me and offered to take the couch so I could try to get some good rest in the bed and I punted him out because I was being all Mrs. Lung Rejection and I figured one of us ought to at least get some decent sleep. He’s not on the list. He gets scritchies!)

On Friday, when I was feeling really primo (comparatively), we went out to eat with Rob, Joanna and DQ to this little Thai place that is never open (no really, the past five times we have tried to eat there, they have been closed). Happily, Friday seemed to be the one day a year it actually was open for business so we got to try Thai food. I’m not sure I’ve really had Thai before but it wasn’t bad. I loved the sweet and sour dish we had (we got the sampler platter whatsit), but everything else was sorta eh. Then again, I wasn’t exactly tip top in health so that could have been a factor. The wait staff were all dressed in this wicked regional garb number that was quite boss (many thumbs up for the uniforms!) so that was keen.

Unfortunately we sat by a group of med students who went on and on about fecal bacteria infections to the point where we turned around and asked them to find a different topic of conversation. Learning about mixing one’s own shit and drinking it to regain your original bacteria buddies after a stringent antibiotic dosing isn’t something I’d even consider dinner conversation but hey. Maybe I’m a prude.

Anyway, afterwards (and a whole lot more knowledgeable about all sorts of pretty disgusting medical procedures) TheMan and I went back to Rob and Joanna’s house for some quality loafing and puzzle piecing. I think the last time I put together a puzzle was late high school or early college; I forgot how fun it can be with a group. I need to get us some puzzles post haste! And a puzzle board because felt on the ground does not a good puzzle table make. Oi!

Five more hours until I go home. It’s going to be a very long day.


Last Year at the booniverse: No entry, so sorry.

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