I don't know what kind of evil, uber-bug is running rampant in my house, but I am about ready to open a big 'ole can o'whup ass on it. Whup Ass thy name is LYSOL. I am home sick for day 2 and I am really tired of my chair. It has a big imprint of my ass in it and that? So not good for my self-esteem.
I wandered outside today to enjoy the spectacular weather and to throw the tennis ball for Mazie. I sat out in the grass in the backyard and it was quite glorious. Until I stood up and saw the imprint of my butt in the grass. I hereby decree that I shalt never sit in the grass again. Or sand. Or mud. Or anything that could potentially end up with an imprint of my ginormous derriere.
One of my very best friends called me today to tell me about a dream she had. It was about me. Gotta love it when my friends are so enamored of all that is my awesomeness that they DREAM about me! Hee! Anyway, in her dream I had my current job, my current part-time second job and I had decided to go and work at a bar, too. Apparantly in dreamland I not only don't need sleep, but I get super skinny from the stress of three jobs. I'm not even gonna lie - I considered it. For longer than you might imagine. I do have to stop and ponder, however, why my friend is dreaming that I am skinny. Is it because I am constantly complaining through my mouthful of chocolate about how much I am sick of being overweight and I reallly, really, really need to do something about it? I plan to do something about it. Right after the Easter candy is gone.
On another note: Saturday was our wedding anniversary. Six whole years of wedded bliss! It was kinda funny because we got up Saturday morning and were cleaning the house when all of a sudden I went, "Holy crap! It's our anniversary!" And Eric goes, "Shit. You're right!" Then he put down the can of Comet and I put down the Windex and we high-fived our mutual awesomeness. Then I called my lovely friend Misti and conned her into babysitting. Unfortunately, by the time the evening rolled around I was starting to get this lovely flu and all we did was go to dinner and then to the drugstore for Nyquil and then home where I took my Nyquil and went straight to bed. I think that in some countries cold medicine is the official 6 year anniversary gift so it wasn't a total bust.
Sunday we went to a 4-year old's birthday party and ate hot dogs and cake and then we came home and I fell asleep on the couch while trying like a champ to keep down the hot dogs and cake. Note to self: Do not, I repeat, DO NOT eat hot dogs or cake or both when sick with the flu.
Yesterday I slept until 3 and then moved to the couch and played Ratchet and Clank for about 6 hours straight. Such is the life. Tomorrow it's back to work. I tried to work today, but my brain isn't cooperating what with all the stomach cramping. I am trying to do some planning around a new employee that starts on Monday and I keep getting derailed. My thought process goes a bit like this:
"I think she will need to spend 25% of her time working on...shit...that hurt...does that mean I have to poop? Again? Ok. Maybe not. Anyway, if she spends most of her time recruiting then that means I can...ouch...maybe I just need to burp. Or fart. Or both. Man, this sucks. Well, at least I'm not puking. That would really be sucky. Ahem. Ok. Recruiting first and then some business devel...EEK! this is not a drill. I repeat - not a drill. Get to the bathroom now! Go! Go! Go!"
Do I really have to tell you how much I hate the flu?
1 comment:
ROFL. Now, one of these days, you must tell me about the 2nd job. I realize that I am not calling weekly to harass you but that does not mean you are not obligated to tell me.
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