Y'all. Yuck. I've spent a fair portion of the day today trying to expel my lungs through my mouth, and all's I'm going to say about that activity is that it's 1) gross, and 2) exhausting. What started off this morning as one of those 'uh oh' throat tickles has turning into a variety of ick that is mercurial in nature, changing up symptoms every hour or so to replace old horrors (dizziness) with new ones (phlegm) then switching back at a whim. There's the spouting nose, the rattling chest, the drippy eyes, the scratchy throat, and just as an added little bonus, the ever-present feeling like THIS coughing fit will be the one that brings up lunch.
To say I'm overjoyed would be exactly wrong, as you can well imagine.
Making matters worse, I have no idea where this came from. Yesterday I was fine! However, I made the possibly huge mistake of taking the kids to a new-to-us Mall ('because my friends have been there and they say it's the best one!') so maybe this is just my Mall allergy kicking in, but dang. So FAST? One evening I'm picturesquely watering the new garden and the next I'm a dribbling mess? Seems a touch unfair.
Someone, start planning my pity party. I'd ten thousand tons of ice cream, please.
Thing 1 has finished his first year of high school. THAT happened fast. Guess I'd best start saving for college.
Helen Thomas is either absolutely crazy or has just had enough of holding her tongue. Being that she's 89, either is a distinct possibility.
It goes totally against old lady grain, doesn't it, to have to watch your words? Why, when I'm terribly old I plan to be the lovable curmudgeon who tells it straight, and poo on you if you're too sensitive to take my generous guidance. Every helping of advice will be a rich nugget wrapped in a slightly itchy coating of saltiness, but you KNOW you want them because oooh, once you get to the CORE of what I've served you KNOW it's going to be life-changing. Like a Ferro Roche candy, only with more grit and possibly something that tastes like burning hair in the outer coating.
Oh, I have PLANS, people. Big one.
Plans for this evening include flopping on the couch and convincing my body that it really really wants to be well. First step? Pour a nice big serving of antibacterial throat wash (bourbon) and get serious about the 'thinking' part of the program.
Y'all have a great one. Tiff is out.