This Post Guarantees I Will Be On Death’s Front Stoop By Tomorrow
Posted by Moose on March 17th, 2008. Filed under: Meat Suit.I spent the weekend feeling consumptive. It might have been scarlet fever. Or maybe the bubonic plague. Or maybe I just veer toward the dramatic because “quarantined without so much as a ladies’ maid” sounds much better than “tired and spent half the weekend snoring.”
Which I did. It was lovely.
I’ve been fighting a cold for almost a month now and I’d love to boast about how the granite-like force of my mighty willpower beat back the germs, but I fear retribution. Blogging about certain subjects is like giving the Evil Eye a magnifying glass and a medium size star, and pointing it toward the scurrying ant that is your life. If I brag about my diligent slurping of teas named “Organic Cold Season Defense” and “Wiccans Use Echinacea,” surely I’ll be dying of dengue fever by the following morning.
We’ll call this post a misguided experiment in Assuming I’ve Beaten Blogger’s Retribution Because I Was Already Sick. Sort Of.
I claim the constitution of an ox, but my lack of phlegmy symptoms is probably due to my lack of children. Or any real responsibility. So when I start feeling weak and tired, I can just crawl into bed and sleep it off. Rather than wrestle a teenager into subservience or fry chicken for a brood of three. Not to mention the widespread phenomena called Wipe Your Snot-Encrusted Nose on Mama’s Shirt.
We do have a dog, but she’s easy to ignore. Her inability to speak English is handy, as is her blatant lack of opposable thumbs for Operation: Doorknob. She can shuffle up to my prone form and thrust her wet nose under my limp hand all she wants, but I just flop over and mumble something that sounds suspiciously like “Jeeves.” As in, “Jeeves, take the dog for her evening constitutional and fix me some Eggs Benedict.”
Jeeves has yet to show and the dog has a full bladder and a surly expression, but I’m feeling much better, thanks.
Related posts:
March 17th, 2008 at 5:35 pm
So sorry you’ve been ill. And not to rub it in, but it was a gorgeous weekend out here… get better and come out to play!
March 17th, 2008 at 8:29 pm
Yeah, dogs that need to be fed and walked on a weekend morning when I’d really rather sleep is the hardest my life gets. Feel better soon.
(BTW, that was my Powerpuff Girls/Cameron Diaz comment for the previous post–I think being blocked at work had something to do with listing me as ‘Anonymous’)
March 17th, 2008 at 8:46 pm
Ha!
“Wipe Your Snot-Encrusted Nose on Mama’s Shirt”
I pull up the bottom of THEIR shirts to wipe off the boogs. I am classy like that.
Hope you are truly better!
Then you can come here and watch my kids so *I* can sleep
March 17th, 2008 at 10:32 pm
Aha! I am lazier than you! I taught my dog to pee on a little pad. Oh yes. Tis fabulous. We only walk when we feel like it. (Plug your ears, Caesar Millan)
Glad you got some rest.
I wanted you to know that I am becoming you. Today I snacked on little strips of red pepper and felt oh-so-healthy.
March 18th, 2008 at 7:53 am
Your blog is just about the funniest thing out there. And that you can be so humerous while on your deathbed is amazing.
Feel better soon.
March 18th, 2008 at 1:22 pm
Iggy has started this new (fun!) game wherein he barks as if he has seen a ghost (see: at nothing) and apparently that means: “I totally need to go frolic, yo.” Either that, or he’s just as easily amused as I am.
Glad you’re feeling better!
March 18th, 2008 at 1:49 pm
I have outsmarted the Evil Eye o’ the Internet! In other words, I’m feeling much better. Back to my usual fiesty ways. (Which appear to include limping down the street because my cute slingback heels would give the devil blisters – and I am not nearly so hearty as the devil.)
Thanks for the good wishes, all.
March 18th, 2008 at 4:04 pm
Reason #4,326 why pets are better than children. You’re welcome.
March 24th, 2008 at 4:06 pm
Oh my God…I’ve definitely had too much Benedryl (I should have had some of that tea instead)…I thought you typed “Dorknob”…hand to God, I just yelled to my husband, “What’s a dorknob?” and he yelled back, “You!”