If I still had my own office with a door I'd be lying on the floor with the lights off right now. But, I must... soldier on... somehow. For the children...
Mmm. Comfy wristwrest makes nice pillow.
Who knows? I don't even know, yet.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Groan
I don't think I'll be getting a Thursday Thirteen up today, friends. I think I pushed it too much yesterday, because I'm sick again today. I did make it in to work, but I was afraid I was going to lose my breakfast toast on the subway. The only reason I didn't turn around and go home was I knew the contractors would have my bathroom disabled until later this evening. At least here I can fall out in the nurse's office, if I must. (Yes, we have a nurse's office at my job. You never know when a stagehand is going to get beaned by a piece of scenery or an elderly patron is going to have a heart attack.)
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7 comments:
Here's hoping that everything gets better for you soon! :)
eat some nice yogurt with active cultures, room temp. it will make your tum feel better.
you, me and the walnut: ever see the movie 'a boy and his dog'? remember how they done don's johnson? yeah. we'll find a nice underground highschool gymnasium and stage a donor abduction! don't forget the batteries.
no sheet, gurl. y'all are welcome. you can meet the biker. he and the wife can go fix harleys and smoke cigars while us gurls see what we can get to burst into flames in the microwave. or vicey voisey.
Fluids! Electrolytes! and lots of both.
Chicken soup with matzoh balls. Do you have my recipe?
Hot water with lemon and cranberry juice. It works a treat. honest, I swear by it. And it tastes nice too.
Get better soon!!
ooh. sorry you're feeling so yucky.
i believe that lying down on the floor is always helpful - office door or not. at least if you're out in the open, they won't think you're faking it.
A week! Not a word in a week. Hope it's because you are very, very well and not because you are ill. But I know that having stuff done around the house make me ill.
Be well. Run away from the Opry. Have some fun.
poor little pumpkin. being sick sucks. being sick in a beautiful bed with wonderful linens and a pretty girl to pat one's hand is a little better. i know that you're improving because i'm headed down in your writing. nevertheless, poor little pumpkin.
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