- Well, I guess it’s better that I’m sick during the week we closed the office.
- WTF? Sick on my vacation? THIS FUCKING ROTS.
- (Spoken in my mind) Being sick is kind of lonely. Wonder what the kids are doing…
- (Spoken aloud/loudly to children playing knee-hockey in my bedroom) OMG GET THE FUCK DOWNSTAIRS CAN’T YOU SEE I’M SICK?
- Something really funny that I forgot as I walked from the bedroom to the laptop (fevered brain fog.) Yeah, let’s watch Star Wars again.
- This fever is insane. My eyeballs feel hot. Is that even a thing?
- This fever is insane. Is this what hot flashes feel like? Holy fuck, am I perimenopausal already?
- My 10-year-old is sick too. OK, let’s go to the pediatrician’s office.
- The pediatrician’s office the day after Christmas=a petri dish personified.
- Good Lord, someone has brought their well child at the pediatrician’s office–LEAVE NOW! SAVE YOURSELVES!
- At least I’m catching up on my reading. I did say I wanted to read on this vacation, right? Alllllll I wanted to do was lie around and read, right? Got my wish, I guess! (Bangs head on Kindle repeatedly.)
- This is a good week to teach my 12-year-old to cook, as I have no sense of smell nor taste. (Talks child through 3 crock-pot recipes from bed.)
- If you’re diffusing aromatherapy oils but you can’t smell them, do they still work? Or is it like the tree falling in the forest thing?
- Speaking of trees, how many boxes of tissues can I go through before I am personally responsible for the decimation of an evergreen forest?
- It’s a good thing all my holiday shopping netted me enough wastebasket bags to hold all these tissues. Also, EWWW.
- HOW MUCH MUCUS CAN ONE PERSON POSSIBLY PRODUCE?
- And wow, I’ve never seen mucus that color….maybe I should go downstairs and call the doctor.
- (Upon venturing downstairs) HOW MESSY CAN A HOUSE GET WHEN THE MAMA IS NOT AVAILABLE TO CLEAN IT?
- It’s better if I don’t go downstairs. My annual physical is in a couple days anyway.
- (On the way to the doctor’s office) I wonder if my doctor will appreciate the sheer irony of my showing up at my annual “well visit” sick as a dog?
- (Leaving the doctor’s office) Who knew that “sick as a dog” is an actual diagnosis!
- Apparently there’s a lot of this going around. The next person I meet in public who tells me they have “just a little cold” is going to get a throat punch from me.
- Maybe I need to start wearing those surgical masks in public.
- Showers are beautiful. I could stay in here forever.
- (Moments later, prostrate on the bed with soaked hair) Showers are exhausting. I need to sleep for an hour now.
Bonus: Wait, is my husband catching this cold? FUUUUUUUCK.