Me NaBloPoMo

Which should mean: “I can’t talk right with all this phlegm, so I’ll just blog.” But it really means that I am participating, if a little behind schedule, in the National Blog Promotion Month, with the cool kids at Ning. Write every day, for a month, in my blog.

Which should mean: "I can’t talk right with all this phlegm, so I’ll just blog."  But it really means that I am participating, if a little behind schedule, in the National Blog Promotion Month, with the cool kids at Ning.  Write every day, for a month, in my blog.  Okay, here goes.  Bloggitty blog blog blog. 

All the crazy things I’ve been doing lately kinda pushed my immune system into overload.  Neither Chris nor I have been 100 % since my weirdo emergency-room trip where my ears, nose and throat decided to close up shop and go fishin’.  We’ve been passing this sicky back and forth and as soon as I had a minute to myself (between the Cantina’s first brunch and our housewarming party) I was knocked over with chills, wracking cough and fever. 

There’s nothing to be done when you’re this sick.  I had to cancel everything.  My poor sweetie had to handle the housewarming party on his own while I slept.  I hear it was a great wingding, and there’s all this cheese left over, which I will eat just as soon as it doesn’t create life-threatening phlegm blobs in my ears/nose/throat.  Sunday brunch had to go by the wayside too, which actually makes me whimper when I think of it.  This week’s client is going in for bone marrow treatment, so there’s no way in hell I’m cooking for him right now.  Oh, there’s a great, high and lonesome sound coming from inside my wallet.  Ooohhhieeeooo….

This is the flip side of having my dreams come true, I spoze.  I like, LOVE, being in charge.  But I can’t step out of things as easily as I’d like.  It’s a trade-off.  Right now, I’d give anything to trade in my bedridden fever dreams (weird-ass stuff!!!) for some serious work-a-day palather.  I’m ready to get better, okay????

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