Sick on a Stick
In case you have missed the news, I am ill. It's just a cold, probably, although the symptoms do mimic some sort of... Black Plague. (Which I totally spelled PLAQUE the first time I typed it. Always a little shaky when it comes to confusing historic epidemics and dentistry --that would be me. I realized the error of my ways, though, and while "black plaque" is certainly more rhythmic and conjures up people from the TIME of the Black Plague, who had limited access to toothbrushes and concern over oral hygiene in general (what with the life expectancy at about 33 years and growing shorter by the epidemic), it doesn't quite conjure up the image I was TRYING to conjure up. Which, namely, is that of me needing some sort of iron lung.)
Because I feel like Death on a Stick.
I am SO ill, in fact, that I can't sit at my desk in the Pygmy Maid's Room and have moved to the couch where I have a little blanket and also, HGTV on demand. This is good because my daughter Jane (7) has asked me to keep Big Bear company today, and perhaps read to him from "Junie B. Jones Has a Monster Under Her Bed."
Note Big Bear's natty scarf, which I knit for him myself.
It was good to finish something, because yesterday I had to rip out all of the neck of the sweater I'm knitting, once again. That's four times, for those of you keeping score at home. So many times that I decided that original skein of yarn was looking a little, um, TIRED and I have started over with a fresh skein. The other skein is in a Time Out awaiting some sort of Bad Knitting Cosmic Cleansing. Maybe I'll set it on fire and do a smudging. (Cranky, much?)
But as I was saying, I have moved my Pit of Misery into the family room. This required some delicate manipulation because I am the proud owner of a laptop with power issues. Said laptop with cord propped ever-so-carefully on memory card reader.
The battery no longer holds a charge and the power supply is fraying in two separate places. (Dudes, how Freudian is THAT? OF COURSE my laptop has POWER ISSUES!) The slightest movement and the screen goes black and I lose my work. I have to chance it though, because, I am SICK and cannot be jumping up every two seconds to check my e-mail just in case someone takes pity on me and sends me one.
(I may be sick but I am not stupid.)
So, I am on the couch, where, through the magic of trial-and-error and cursing, I now have easy access to my both my computer AND a barrel of tea. (Note the addition of milk to said tea so that I can avoid (wait for it) having black plaque.
Hahahaha!
(Oh, hush, it's the fever talking.)
Because I feel like Death on a Stick.
I am SO ill, in fact, that I can't sit at my desk in the Pygmy Maid's Room and have moved to the couch where I have a little blanket and also, HGTV on demand. This is good because my daughter Jane (7) has asked me to keep Big Bear company today, and perhaps read to him from "Junie B. Jones Has a Monster Under Her Bed."
Note Big Bear's natty scarf, which I knit for him myself.
It was good to finish something, because yesterday I had to rip out all of the neck of the sweater I'm knitting, once again. That's four times, for those of you keeping score at home. So many times that I decided that original skein of yarn was looking a little, um, TIRED and I have started over with a fresh skein. The other skein is in a Time Out awaiting some sort of Bad Knitting Cosmic Cleansing. Maybe I'll set it on fire and do a smudging. (Cranky, much?)
But as I was saying, I have moved my Pit of Misery into the family room. This required some delicate manipulation because I am the proud owner of a laptop with power issues. Said laptop with cord propped ever-so-carefully on memory card reader.
The battery no longer holds a charge and the power supply is fraying in two separate places. (Dudes, how Freudian is THAT? OF COURSE my laptop has POWER ISSUES!) The slightest movement and the screen goes black and I lose my work. I have to chance it though, because, I am SICK and cannot be jumping up every two seconds to check my e-mail just in case someone takes pity on me and sends me one.
(I may be sick but I am not stupid.)
So, I am on the couch, where, through the magic of trial-and-error and cursing, I now have easy access to my both my computer AND a barrel of tea. (Note the addition of milk to said tea so that I can avoid (wait for it) having black plaque.
Hahahaha!
(Oh, hush, it's the fever talking.)
Comments
Be very afraid. (But also - get better.)
However, there is nothing that gets a mom well faster than having to care for sick children. Whether she's ready for it or not.
You're at least attempting a sweater. I am still leaving that to a later date.
Keep on truckin and feel better.
(oh, yeah, sorry you're sick)
Hope you feel better soon (and then spend some time faking sick so you can enjoy your couch and tea time better).
At least your sense of humor is intact!
Maybe Big Bear needs a sweater. Like, a smaller, practice version of your own.
Hm. No clue. Oh well. Feel better!
Would it help if I told you I am having a giveaway over at my place? Way better than sick on a stick.
Get better and have some more tea!