Bleh! I hate you guys! It's your fault. You're the only ones I can blame. I haven't had any other contact with the outside world, and yet here I sit, coughing, achey, stuffy head...I'm a freakin' Nyquil commercial and it's all your fault. You're the only people I've talked to in the last few days. It's one of these computer viruses I hear all about. Thanks a lot.
Ever notice how big the world gets when you're sick? Right now I'm huddled in my fuzzy throw, like a gypsy fortuneteller, typing with as little movement as possible, trying not to uncover my hands. I got up a while back I needed coffee and OJ. I'll tell ya, it was like walking across a Las Vegas Casino to the cashier counter. There's like a strange old couple throwing dice at my kitchen table, and a gaggle of foreign tourist clogging up the foot path between me and the fridge. Hang on, the old lady wants a scotch—neat. I'll be back in an hour; she tips pretty well. Never in the field of human travel, has so many feet seemed like so far to so few! My hut feels huge! Maybe that's Thurston and Lovey at my table. I returned to my desk, slumped into the chair, re-wrapped myself, and then broke for breath.
Must breathe…
My nose is useless for that right now. It's betrayed me, but my lips can't get around the words "et tu" to accuse it. Instead they say something close to "ah boo?" Then my nose says "God bless you." Yeah, everything shuts down when I'm sick.
Then there's my mind. Do I even need to go into that? Maybe you should re-read the second paragraph again. Pay special attention to the strangers in my kitchen.
One of my single friends once said, "At least you have somebody around when you're sick." Well that may be true, but I'm never sick. In all the time we were married, I think I was sick twice. Oh that's not to say I didn't take full advantage of her during those times. See, I'm just like any other guy when it comes to being sick. We all revert to 5 year old boys. We want Mom to coddle us and nurse us back to health. And just like sick time at work, you can only accumulate so much before you lose it. I think a divorce means I lose it.
Do I get a raincheck? Can I call MyUnwife up?
"Hey, could you come over with a vat of chicken noodle and a tumbler of Nyquil?"
"No."
"Why not? I'm sick!"
"You're always sick. You’re a sick twisted man."
"You always liked that before? Besides this is a different sick."
"And you want to get me sick..?"
"Well you were always a sick and twisted woman…but no, I wanted you to honor these coddle-Rob IOUs."
"Oh, that's all? Well hold your breath. I'll be there before you breathe your last-er next."
Yeah, that's not gonna happen. So how bout you? You gave me this thing, any chance you can hook me up with some comfort food? I'd ask the old lady at the table, but she just put her cigarette out in my OJ. Yeah, my mind is slipping, and I'm feeling sick, not a good combo. 3 more degrees on the thermometer and I'm Princess Leah typing a message into the R2 droid... Help me, Obi-wan Blogreader you're my only hope. Help me...
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