Winter here's cold... and bitter...
OK, so maybe just cold. As in, I've got one. Sucky, yes, but! Productive! Well, not for the first two days, but now I've discovered that once I get a few hours sleep and am awoken either by my husband returning home or my dog licking my hand wanting to go outside, I am comPLETELY unable to breath. Wonderful. So, enter Sudafed (the good shite, not that phenylephrine crap) and Ibuprofin liquigels.
Have you ever tried that combo? I kind of know now why meth freaks do what they do. Of course, I'm nowhere near that high, or messed up. But I've got this kind of mellow calm about me. It's wonderful. DayQuil does the same thing to me. Hence the antics I got into on my first date with Rick more than 3 years ago. I had a head cold, and was on DayQuil, and apparently did cartwheels in the livestock pavilion at the State Fair, and danced in the moonlight down by the river. I remember some of it, those two events not included.
So, anyway. Ow. I just gave myself a plastic cut on my lip from my Otter Pop (great for sore throats, btw). But I digest.
Ok, so, I woke up, popped said pills, and took a shower. A loooooong, hot shower (sadly lacking in young Paul Newman-ness, but then again, I'm no Joanne Woodward) and braided my swiftly growing hair (it's growing extremely fast these days.) I then had the urge to clean. Why, you may ask? Well, who knows? When women are pregnant, they nest. That is, they go into these fits of cleaning and organizing preparing for the baby to come. Don't worry, oh lucky world, I am not pregnant. Goddess forbid. I am however, sick. And when I am sick, I have two states. Usually. They are laid up in bed feeling miserable and wanting to clean everything in sight. The latter of course could be productive, but the true nature of the beast causes me to become fatigued easily, and I lose that feeling really fast, sinking instead back into my laid up state.
So I did the dishes. And opened my new silverware that Rick and I bought from BB&B, and sunk it into a nice, hot, soapy bath in the kitchen sink, where it will remain for the next half hour until the dishwasher is done sanitizing the current load, at which point I will then load the new silverware, depending of course on the fact that I have enough energy left to do so. At the very least, I must rinse it, because I know from personal experience that I have a tendency to get my silverware all rusty. Stainless Steel my ass.
And now, I am starting to lose my short-lived ability to breath, so I am going to hunker down on the couch with my roll-o-toilet-tissue, my blankey, and my Lola-ness (that's the mini schnauzer daughter you will witness me refer to in the future) and my Janet Evanovich horribly un-realistic trilogy and relax. Franky say RELAX, y'all!
K, peace out.
Have you ever tried that combo? I kind of know now why meth freaks do what they do. Of course, I'm nowhere near that high, or messed up. But I've got this kind of mellow calm about me. It's wonderful. DayQuil does the same thing to me. Hence the antics I got into on my first date with Rick more than 3 years ago. I had a head cold, and was on DayQuil, and apparently did cartwheels in the livestock pavilion at the State Fair, and danced in the moonlight down by the river. I remember some of it, those two events not included.
So, anyway. Ow. I just gave myself a plastic cut on my lip from my Otter Pop (great for sore throats, btw). But I digest.
Ok, so, I woke up, popped said pills, and took a shower. A loooooong, hot shower (sadly lacking in young Paul Newman-ness, but then again, I'm no Joanne Woodward) and braided my swiftly growing hair (it's growing extremely fast these days.) I then had the urge to clean. Why, you may ask? Well, who knows? When women are pregnant, they nest. That is, they go into these fits of cleaning and organizing preparing for the baby to come. Don't worry, oh lucky world, I am not pregnant. Goddess forbid. I am however, sick. And when I am sick, I have two states. Usually. They are laid up in bed feeling miserable and wanting to clean everything in sight. The latter of course could be productive, but the true nature of the beast causes me to become fatigued easily, and I lose that feeling really fast, sinking instead back into my laid up state.
So I did the dishes. And opened my new silverware that Rick and I bought from BB&B, and sunk it into a nice, hot, soapy bath in the kitchen sink, where it will remain for the next half hour until the dishwasher is done sanitizing the current load, at which point I will then load the new silverware, depending of course on the fact that I have enough energy left to do so. At the very least, I must rinse it, because I know from personal experience that I have a tendency to get my silverware all rusty. Stainless Steel my ass.
And now, I am starting to lose my short-lived ability to breath, so I am going to hunker down on the couch with my roll-o-toilet-tissue, my blankey, and my Lola-ness (that's the mini schnauzer daughter you will witness me refer to in the future) and my Janet Evanovich horribly un-realistic trilogy and relax. Franky say RELAX, y'all!
K, peace out.