At this point, you could really freak me out by bringing a bright light into my bedroom. Okay, that would be freaky anytime, but especially so when one thinks one is close to death. I would be that one. To be honest, I actually felt a little better today, but that’s only because I did my work sitting on my couch wrapped in a robe, and my day didn’t involve having to stretch the limits of my capabilities by doing something ridiculous like showering. Or wearing appropriate clothing.
Not that nearly dying is all bad. Moon came home from school today and announced that she didn’t have any homework because she had, got this, done it at school! While I was still reeling from that news, she went into the kitchen and poured a large glass of orange juice, then brought it to ME. What. the. what. A few minutes later, I found her still in the kitchen, wearing an apron and loading the dish-washer. Obviously, she’s seen the medical report. What else can explain the fact that she then cleaned the kitchen, the dining room, the bathroom and her bedroom? I don’t know, Kittens, but either I’ve entered a hallucinatory phase of this illness, or my daughter has also gotten sick. If I’m dreaming, don’t wake me.
Other than that, nothing is new. I worked, sneezed, watched some bad television, coughed, read the new Jack Reacher novel, snorted and drank plain OJ.
Plain orange juice. I MUST be sick.