2005-02-17 - 7:54 a.m.
Hemingway I ain't, but I've never shot myself in the foot, either.
Actually, my head is not filled with goo. It got slightly gooey last week, but I've really just had this hacking cough for almost a week and a half now. Bronchitis, here I come. Bob says if I am not better by Sunday, he's wrapping me up with duct tape and throwing me in the trunk so he can take me to the doctor. (I hate going to the doctor. I do it way too much. It's just a cough.) I can't take any more OTC cough syrup, my mouth and stomach have rebelled. If I try to take any, my hand refuses to go near my mouth. If I manage to wrestle past that, my throat closes up completely, and I'm left with a mouthful of cough syrup that *will* *not* *go* *down*. The muscle relaxants I take relax my chest enough to let me sleep without coughing (much), but I'm really, really tired. I have turned this around to my advantage though, as I pitifully cough at work, and everyone is very impressed by my dedication at coming in. Boy, do I have them fooled. But, in order to keep up the facade, I must get off the diary and into the Excel. Four day weekend. I can't wait. I'm going to see all the movies I want. ...and make rude comments about them if they do not please me. Bob has also agreed to take me out to dinner tonight, so I have to decide where I want to go. Maybe Indian - it's been a while since I had some yummy lamb pasanda. *bleat* Oh, yeah, I have noodles for brains. This should make the weekend even more fun.
Dorsal - Ventral
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