Last year, around this time, I caught something I "lovingly" refer to as "the Martian Death Flu." It started with ths sniffles then went to sneezing and coughing. And by coughing I mean hacking until I spat up or, in one charming instance, vomited. I would eat, go into a coughing fit, and hack up streams of gunk.
I blame the Martian Death Flu on my father. He blamed it on me. In any case, the whole family had it before it was over. Mine was the worst. At one point I started to think I was going to die. Then I began to think I never would. That I would live my remaining years under this bug.
I even lost my voice.
To which my parents and Brother Todd rejoiced.
I never felt so loved.
All of this is a long winded way of saying I got the sniffles and don't feel so good.
I'm taking cold medicine in the hopes of staving it off. I am also hoping to pick up the pace novel -wise, just in case.
Y'know whose to blame for all of this, right? H. G. Wells. Had to go off and give some people ideas.
2 comments:
Anyway. Just remember - load up on Zinc and Vitamin C.
I'm sure glad Thought and Humor said, uh, whatever it was he said.
Salvidor Dali Lives!
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