For weeks I avoided the dreaded black lung plague. My immune system was able to resist little babies who coughed and sneezed in my face. It was able to fight off all the germs carried by the moms of those same babies who touched my things. It Karate chopped the microbes the ladies at work spread throughout the office while they touched the copy machine and printer. I didn't want to brag to you guys that I had avoided getting sick the whole season because I was afraid to jinx myself.
On Friday I felt kind of crappy but I pushed through. On Saturday I felt a little worse but I threatened myself into getting out of bed and with positive thinking I did all the chores on my list.
It was all over on Sunday.
I knew it was bad when I couldn't move the blanket because it was too heavy. I knew it was really really bad when I had no appetite and my sweet heaven's elixir, COFFEE, turned my stomach. I walked around the house like a 109 year old lady grunting at every step I took feeling every rubber-band muscle in my body. My head felt like it was stuffed full of needles and cotton balls. To make matters worse, I slept all day on the sunniest day of the year.
I called in sick today so I may rest my weary bones and hopefully be better tomorrow. Unfortunately for me, my house is still grand central station and filled with babies crying, dogs barking, people talking loud to be heard over all the racket and for some reason, I'm also being used as a temporary baby holder. I'm thinking I would have gotten more peace and quiet at work.
Oh well. Tomorrow will hopefully be better... right?