It’s NOT a Man Cold

It’s totes legit. First of all, it’s me that is sick, not Husband, and second of all, I have been doing everything I could think of to avoid getting sick this week, rather than declaring myself useless and retiring to the luxury of uninterrupted sleep. Husband would vomit just thinking about the amount of apple cidar vinegar I have consumed this week. I’ve been taking echinacea and stinging nettle (for allergies) plus sachets-a-plenty of vitamin mixes. I’ve rested when possible, though it’s rarely probable. But today I felt simply awful, and was worried that I’d be sick or pass out behind the wheel on the way home from swimming. The boys were devastated not to go out for dinner, but I placated them with frozen pizza – thank you Costco – and after inhaling some ibuprofen, I actually felt a lot better. Better enough to eat some pizza as well, and warm enough without aches and shakes to move away from the fire. I sure know how to make a mofo’ing fire.
Bed time will be bearable, and then I can get into my own bed with the electric blanket.. I’m sucking down a goddamn litre of tea, and if I put on enough lip cream, my lips won’t dry out too much while I breathe loudly and unladylike through my mouth. With any luck, I will look as put together as Kathryn Heigel does in the vix ads.



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