Talk About Yer Trade-Offs
So I had a quick relapse of the cold I had just kicked. Long story short, an early morning trip to the DMV to get my driver license renewed, followed by a trip home with the windows down and the back window zipped out of the convertible top on the Miata=relapse. It was about 35 degrees out, which is just way too freaking cold to be running around in an open car, so I got to spend the rest of the day feeling like a dumbass. An achy, stuffy, nauseous dumbass.
So this morning, after a fairly patchy night's rest, about which more momentarily, I began feeling better. I resolved not to leave the house until after noon, so as not to incur the same stupid result as Thursday morning. So, right about a quarter of two, I got out, put the top down - 64 degrees - and spent about two and a half hours motoring around the countryside, after which I felt immensely better, and - and this is the really good news - hungry. So I stopped at the Harris Teeter (our local upscale grocery chain, which I love-- for a Freshetta five-cheese, brick oven style pizza, which I will add salami to, maybe with some chopped onion and sliced balck olives.
The downside - and this is almost completely unrelated - is that the Wifey's cold, which had been on the verge of either going away or turning rotten, did the latter. She left work early (by a whopping 15 minutes, and utter rarity for her) and walked in looking, as my brother used to be fond of saying, like Death sitting on the street corner eating an onion sandwich.
Which is kind of odd. She surmised that I got my cold (the relapse) from our neice, who I took to see the Hoodwinked movie over the weekend, Rachelle skipped that outing, instead escorting our nephew Thomas, who is three, and who panicked when he found out the movie wasn't lunch. (Call it creative thinking.) So she didn't sit through the film with Josh and Cayla (which was great fun, by the way), and thus didn't share the infected popcorn (Rachelle's theory) which gave me the killer bug I insisted on thinking was just a relapse of my previous bug (because, dammit, I'm all done being sick, and that is my story, and I am sticking to it).
Anyways. It all finally translates out to this: now that I am well, after a night of sleep disturbed by my nausea and her coaghing, sneezing and snoring, I get to wait on the Wifey, hand and foot, until she is better. (Don't get me wrong: I enjoy it, I just don't like her being sick.)
So this morning, after a fairly patchy night's rest, about which more momentarily, I began feeling better. I resolved not to leave the house until after noon, so as not to incur the same stupid result as Thursday morning. So, right about a quarter of two, I got out, put the top down - 64 degrees - and spent about two and a half hours motoring around the countryside, after which I felt immensely better, and - and this is the really good news - hungry. So I stopped at the Harris Teeter (our local upscale grocery chain, which I love-- for a Freshetta five-cheese, brick oven style pizza, which I will add salami to, maybe with some chopped onion and sliced balck olives.
The downside - and this is almost completely unrelated - is that the Wifey's cold, which had been on the verge of either going away or turning rotten, did the latter. She left work early (by a whopping 15 minutes, and utter rarity for her) and walked in looking, as my brother used to be fond of saying, like Death sitting on the street corner eating an onion sandwich.
Which is kind of odd. She surmised that I got my cold (the relapse) from our neice, who I took to see the Hoodwinked movie over the weekend, Rachelle skipped that outing, instead escorting our nephew Thomas, who is three, and who panicked when he found out the movie wasn't lunch. (Call it creative thinking.) So she didn't sit through the film with Josh and Cayla (which was great fun, by the way), and thus didn't share the infected popcorn (Rachelle's theory) which gave me the killer bug I insisted on thinking was just a relapse of my previous bug (because, dammit, I'm all done being sick, and that is my story, and I am sticking to it).
Anyways. It all finally translates out to this: now that I am well, after a night of sleep disturbed by my nausea and her coaghing, sneezing and snoring, I get to wait on the Wifey, hand and foot, until she is better. (Don't get me wrong: I enjoy it, I just don't like her being sick.)
posted by Bobo the Wandering Pallbearer at 2:13 PM
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