Still ridiculously, hopelessly sick. Some invisible giant has mistaken my head for a large and juicy melon of some kind and is currently trying to hack it open with an ax. Several sadistic, minuscule elves have taken up residence in my throat and are shoving their cute little curlicue knives into it. This makes it difficult to eat, so my one consolation is that when this is all over I will be a light delicate swan. In as much as a person who is five feet ten can ever be considered "delicate."
At least I don't have a fever anymore.
I went to the doctor's this morning and was told I could well have the West Nile Virus; I was then shuffled out of the office and on to my non-merry way. "Make sure you take it really easy over the next few days!" the doctor added as I was leaving. Sure, right. I'll just leave everything in the competent hands of my manservant, Bunsworthy for the next 48 hours while I lie in bed with a box of bon bons and an assortment of Russell Crowe movies. Ha ha. As if. (He knew I had kids at home too, he'd asked!! What a clueless jerk!!)
Mr. IQ came up with a design for the tombstone I wanted. He really enjoyed working on it too, got himself worked up into a right excited lather. You should have seen him bopping around here, holy cow, talk about uncharacteristic behavior! He was even humming! Honestly, he is sometimes so sweet and generous to me, it melts my heart.
See you when I'm finally over this. (Soon, hopefully.)
3 comments:
nice stone
Oh dear. I'm sorry about your illness but tell Mr. IQ that I love the tombstone. Very classy.
Oh, sorry you're feeling so crappy. What's the deal? You're not supposed to be sick now. It's summer!
P.S. Can I borrow Bunsworthy?
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