‘Twas the week before Thanksgiving, and all through the house….
Everybody was sick.
A visit from Flu. I feel it should be treated as a proper noun for how much of a precedence it has taken in my life this past week.
On Wednesday, I went home at lunchtime to sleep—that, and to be sick around my own toilets, of course. So after I got home, the first thing I did was to warm the place up a bit as we turn the heat off during the day while we’re gone. I also lit my pumpkin spice candle (I love “spice” candles!) in a defiant, “Yeah, I’m sick but you won’t know it from looking at my house” sort of attitude. After doing some laundry and such, I got cozy on the couch.
I decided to watch Star Wars while I lazed about…hoping for a force of some sort to be with me. I watched/slept through 8 hours of Star Wars. 8 hours. 8 hours made it perfectly clear that there was no force with me and that, in all likelihood, it hadn’t been wished to be with me. I really ought to light saber Miles’ tuckus for being ill with me, but not having the decency to get sick with me.
No, I don’t really mean that.