Yep, I’m feeling punk (that’s what my father-in-law says when he’s sick, but he says it with a New York accent which makes it sound really cool).
It started coming on last night with a headache, sore throat, achy feeling in my chest, and a cough. I shivered and had nightmarish fever dreams (which revolved around trying to can peaches but they kept rotting instead) and tossed and turned till two in the morning when Mr. Handsome brought me two Tylenol and some water and an extra blanket and I finally fell into a real sleep.
Mr. Handsome stayed home from work this morning and took the kids to their dental appointment (hopefully they’ll have time to run to the library for lots of books so they’ll be entertained for the rest of the day and to the grocery store for a bunch of processed foods so I don’t have to think about cooking), so I have the morning to myself. I was feeling okay enough to wash the dishes and get some laundry started and talk to my mom on the phone and do this post, but now I’m starting to get shivery so I think I might go back upstairs and crawl into bed.
I hope this punk feeling doesn’t last too long (no longer than one day, please) because I hate being stuck in bed. I’m not a pleasant, well-mannered sick person. I like being up and about, doing work, bossing people, yapping on the phone, eating…
There’s nothing like being sick to make me appreciate the minutia of my life.
