However, this time I won't give you a gross picture. Let's just say I didn't think my throat could look worse - oh how very, very wrong I was. My body has been sapped of all energy. The overuse of Tylenol PM has taken away the great buzz followed by sleep that I'm used to getting when I swallow those two little blue pills. The house is littered with tissues, empty drug bottles, and glasses and cups with 3/4 of the drink still in them. And the inbox is 98 messages full - and that's 98 messages I need to act on, not 98 messages I can just delete. Make that 99 now.
:-(
Only, I guess now, it's not so secret. *Shrug*
I don't like being sick. As a kid it was all fun and games. I got to stay home, watch cartoons, my mom babied me. I would call my aunt and tell her I was sick, and she would bring me toys, usually the latest Care Bear that wasn't out yet for everyone else, but she'd dig through the stock in the back of KMart and get exactly what I wanted. The medicine tasted a lot better too. Remember that pink antibiotic stuff? That was tasty. I loved the baby tylenol too.
Being sick now means falling behind in work. Being sick now means stress. Being sick now means when I get better I'll have to wash all of the sheets and sweatshirts and tshirts when I get better, because I've tried to sweat out my fever for two or three days. The only thing better now then before is my doctor. The one I had as a kid had black hair and a mustache and an evil nurse. The one I have now makes me feel like a kid again; "Look at the birdie! Look at the birdie!" Anything to keep my mind off the fact that I feel bad and always something that at least makes me crack a smile.
I wish I really had a picture of what happened today. Unfortunately I don't, so Milo chewing on his toy squirrels will have to suffice.
I took Milo for a walk today and as we approached the other side of the complex, a squirrel ran up a small tree. Milo heard it, saw it, smelled it. He was locked in and not going anywhere.
I could see the squirrels thought process - probably because it's very similar to mine (meaning my thought process is usually very transparent to others). Look up, look over, look around. Oh shit, I've got nowhere to go. So, instead of scurrying to the top of the tree, he goes into squirrel warning mode. He starts making a chirping noise, which is what the toy squirrels do (amazing). This drives Milo nuts. He paces, trying to find a way to get into the tree. He looks at me like, "Come on lady. Knock that damn squirrel out of the tree so I can kill it. You've got to be good for something."
The squirrel decides we're not budging, so he continues the chirping noise and stands up on his hind legs. This is the funny part where I wish I had a picture. He grabs the tiny twig/branch in front of him with his two front paws, grasping it crosswise against his body like it's his fighting stick. Priceless.
So, Milo didn't catch the squirrel. We eventually walked away (my doing, not Milo's). The squirrel lives to see another day.
I recently returned from the land of Hank Hill - as you can probably see from the pictures. The priest's house at the San Jose Mission had a doghouse for Ladybird which I found to be pretty funny. No one else with me got the joke though.
Check out the other photos at
Travels & Meanderings - Texas mini-road trip.
We sat and watched these guys for a while, but they didn't deliver the fine comedy you would expect from a boat full of men wearing red robes with one woman (the Smurfette of the group). It was a really odd site though - if you look closely you might be able to see their staff with grapes carved into the top. Hence the
Wine Drinking Grand Puba Society name I have given them.
Sitting by the river, sipping a margarita. Not a bad life.
And i need it...
As I said
below, it is birthday month. One of the things I miss most about being away from my family is celebrating all the birthdays and getting to eat yummy birthday cake. While I usually celebrate my birthday with friends, or even with family while on vacation somewhere, I hardly ever get birthday cake. Instead it is some decadent dessert from a restaurant (I'm not really complaining here, really).
With the exception of last year. The boyfriend went to 3 different grocery stores to find a small sheet cake (like an eighth of a sheet?) - white cake with white icing. We enjoyed it with a fine glass of red wine :-)
But it's October again, and I'm craving birthday cake. Will I be able to refrain from going to the store and buying a dozen cupcakes?
On a different note, the above image is by Wayne Thiebaud. I love the bright color in his paintings.
And also birthday month - 7 close-family birthdays in all. The boyfriend did not believe me when I said birthday cards for the month would be between $20 and $30. I was
right.
I wonder why the witches in Harry Potter don't look like the one above? I've had this witch and cauldron music box since I was in third grade - around the time my parents split up. Ninny Hobson bought it for me.
It plays the theme from Phantom of the Opera. After my parents divorced I would cry at the drop of a hat, especially slow songs made me just bawl my eyes out (I can't remember the specific songs, but occasionally I hear one of those 80s ballads and it brings back the memories). I would wind up this music box and just watch it turn, and I would cry and cry and cry.
It took a few years, but I got over it. I can wind it up now and listen to it without crying. Which is more than I can say for getting over "Good-Bye". Any sort of good-bye still makes me tear up. As do natural disasters, movies with father-daughter separation (
The Little Mermaid was hell to watch), and too much teasing when I'm in a mood. Oh, and extreme frustration and failure. Now you know how to turn on the water works.
