Is anything so dull as being sick? Here I was, looking forward to the nausea-free week, but then it hit�my annual autumnal bout of the flu. Save your spiel about the flu shot, Nurse Nelly, �cause as usual, when the free shot days were here, I was down for the count with the semiannual autumnal cold, and you can�t get no shot when you�re sick. So there.
It�s even more annoying when it�s 75 degrees and sunny, and I can just hear the lovely sound of fall leaves skittering across the porch roof as I lie in bed wondering how many days it will take before someone breaks in to find my weak body buried in a pile of used lotion-infused tissues.
I watched lots of television. Gave long speeches to the cat about such topics as why the new Christian, who�s seems far taller, older and more conventionally attractive than the original Christian, simply cannot work in that part. How this Todd=Walker stuff is too typically ludicrous to actually be interesting. However, if you�ve been injured at work or if your child was born with brain damage, I could probably come up with names of a few lawyers for you to check out.
Speaking of commercials, when Tampax first came out with those Pearl tampons, was I the only one who was confused about the point? A few days ago I opened my new package of Playtex, only to find each individual package emblazoned with the slogan, �new pearlized coating for easier insertion.� And I have to say, first and foremost, if you�re having troubles inserting it, you�re probably not actually on your period. Furthermore, I don�t believe I need the applicator, which serves its country for a few seconds and is discarded, to be more aesthetically pleasing. This effect is far better served making faux pearl necklaces for Mardi Gras. Or for dandifying wedding dresses.
Sigh. Clearly I digress.
I hit bottom when I was watching Oprah the other day. She had Shania Twain (of all people) on the show, and Shania was singing a duet with Dolly for the first time ever. She got all choked up talking about how big it was, how important the song, �Coat of Many Colors,� was to her. And I cried. Then they sang, and I sobbed. JoJo Beans enjoyed the message I left for her and Sparky after that fiasco, but I tell you, I felt as low as ever. It wasn�t pretty.
It�s still not pretty. I guess it�ll be more generic Theraflu tonight. Stuff of the devil, granted, but once I dilute it and choke it down, I do actually feel better. Feel better I must. In spite of my overwhelming apathy, anger and sadness, I intend to pull myself together long enough to see Jack Ingram play the early show tomorrow evening, if only to escape the germ-riddled house. No alcohol. Well, limit 2 pints of PBR. Then home, where the poor and antisocial hatch plans to turn their lives around.