And, Done.

Hey, I feel 99% better!  I followed doctor’s orders and got a lot of calories in my body today (which I will pay for at the gym tomorrow and for the rest of my life) and the fat cells beat the germ cells into submission.  Apparently, even though you don’t want to eat when you’re sick, you must because you need the calories to beat back the germables.  (<–that’s a made up word, but I like to give my tormentors a name.  It makes it that much more fun when I vanquish them.  “Germables, be gone!”)  Anyway, both nostrils clear!  Throat only mildly scratchy!  I win!

Poor Russell Jenkins doesn’t know what to do at my recovery, and has left me alone in the living room while he sulks on the bed.  I think he likes when I’m sick because he feels useful warming my feet or just snuggling up next to me in his version of comfort.  (Which isn’t comfort because his hair is brillo pad quality and likes to wend its way up my nose, but I’d never tell him that.)

Tomorrow is going to get its butt kicked.


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