How 'Bout Some Cheese With That?
I'm sick.
I whine when I'm sick. Not as bad as some people that I know, but I do complain. With no prompting, I'll say things like "I'm sick", "My head hurts", "I can't breathe", "I'm tired of blowing my nose", etc. I'm a real peach to be around right now, I'm sure.
Sugar Daddy's a whiner, too, but he's on vacation this week so I can't whine to him. I've sent him a text message every day that says, "Im sick". He finally sent me a reply today, "Yeah, I remember hearing that somewhere". I can tell he cares.
This cold is just pissing me off. It's so inconvenient. I mean, I have lots of stuff to do. People to see, projects to finish, beers to drink, poker to play, boys to flirt with. There's no time for feeling like a TB victim. Or, sounding like one. One of the things about living alone is that you don't have an opportunity to find out that you're losing your voice until you get to work. I found out today, after I called someone and could barely croak out a hello.
I'm currently trying to convince myself that I feel better this afternoon. It didn't help that Andrea told me I looked worse than I did earlier today but I'm trying to forget she said it.
Of course, I'm a total hypocrite about working while you're sick. I rag on everyone else to go home so they won't infect others but I refuse to take my own advice. If I'm not running a fever or expelling bodily fluids (beyond blowing my nose), I go to work. That's just what Type A control freaks who think they're vitally important do.
It's not like I haven't been taking care of myself, either. I've been taking my Flintstones and getting extra Vitamin C and I actually went to bed at 9 PM one night. I've also been popping some decongestants during the day and taking NyQuil each night (a contributing factor to the 9 PM bedtime as NyQuil knocks me out in less than 1/2 hour).
Hey, I think I can actually breathe through my nose...yep, on the road to recovery! To quote Buffett, "If I don't die by Thursday, I'll be roaring Friday night!"
I whine when I'm sick. Not as bad as some people that I know, but I do complain. With no prompting, I'll say things like "I'm sick", "My head hurts", "I can't breathe", "I'm tired of blowing my nose", etc. I'm a real peach to be around right now, I'm sure.
Sugar Daddy's a whiner, too, but he's on vacation this week so I can't whine to him. I've sent him a text message every day that says, "Im sick". He finally sent me a reply today, "Yeah, I remember hearing that somewhere". I can tell he cares.
This cold is just pissing me off. It's so inconvenient. I mean, I have lots of stuff to do. People to see, projects to finish, beers to drink, poker to play, boys to flirt with. There's no time for feeling like a TB victim. Or, sounding like one. One of the things about living alone is that you don't have an opportunity to find out that you're losing your voice until you get to work. I found out today, after I called someone and could barely croak out a hello.
I'm currently trying to convince myself that I feel better this afternoon. It didn't help that Andrea told me I looked worse than I did earlier today but I'm trying to forget she said it.
Of course, I'm a total hypocrite about working while you're sick. I rag on everyone else to go home so they won't infect others but I refuse to take my own advice. If I'm not running a fever or expelling bodily fluids (beyond blowing my nose), I go to work. That's just what Type A control freaks who think they're vitally important do.
It's not like I haven't been taking care of myself, either. I've been taking my Flintstones and getting extra Vitamin C and I actually went to bed at 9 PM one night. I've also been popping some decongestants during the day and taking NyQuil each night (a contributing factor to the 9 PM bedtime as NyQuil knocks me out in less than 1/2 hour).
Hey, I think I can actually breathe through my nose...yep, on the road to recovery! To quote Buffett, "If I don't die by Thursday, I'll be roaring Friday night!"