Before the yuks comes the baseball. You fans of Bugs & Cranks head on over to see the latest on the Braves:
The Lazy Fat Man’s Response: TiVo Blogging — When live-blogging the first ESPN game of the season is just too damned taxing.
Now, onward and upward.
This morning, I felt a cold coming on. When I woke up, I had a sore throat, I was tired, grumpy, achy, and didn’t feel like getting out of bed.
So, pretty much like every other day — plus a sore throat. The humanity.
“The only one around to hear bitching at that time of day is the dog, and she clearly doesn’t give a damn about my problems. I suppose if I ate nothing but horsemeat and could lick my own crotch, I wouldn’t, either.”
But did I complain? No. I’m a trooper. Besides, grousing wouldn’t do any good. The only one around to hear bitching at that time of day is the dog, and she clearly doesn’t give a damn about my problems. I suppose if I ate nothing but horsemeat and could lick my own crotch, I wouldn’t, either.
Still, none of that helps with my impending illness. So I’m taking precautions to nip this bug in the bud. First, I took a long, hot, relaxing shower. Then I went back to bed for a little nap. You don’t want to overexert yourself when you’re coming down with something. Eventually I got back up, put some pants on, and drove to work. Slowly, and moaning softly from time to time, just for effect.
When I got to the office, it was nearly lunchtime, so I asked the secretary to order me some Chinese food. I figured MSG kills anything, and I didn’t want to contaminate my phone receiver by calling myself. I was certain our office girl would understand.
She told me to go screw myself.
So I waited until the guy in the next cube over went to lunch, used his phone to order, and had a hot box of moo goo germ poison delivered to the front door.
(And while the secretary was on a coffee break, I raided her desk and licked all her pens. Who’s run down and congested now, bitch?)
For the rest of the workday, I made sure to get plenty of rest — just like the doctor ordered. I had lunch, then a quick doze at the desk, a nice cup of hot tea from the break room, a mid-afternoon power nap in the far bathroom stall, and it was time to go home. The corporate rat race can be so draining, but I managed to soldier through.
And now I’m back at home, wrapped up in a nice shawl on the couch. I changed into a nice comfy pair of sweats, and I’m about to get down to the next step in my road to recovery — lots and lots of alcohol. If the half-case of Guinness in my fridge can’t kill these nasties, then I don’t know what will. But if I think of something, I’ll ask my wife to run out and get it for me. I’m certain she’ll understand.
And if not, she’s getting her toothbrush licked. I don’t play around when it comes to good health. Happy weekend, all.Permalink | 1 Comment