After this past week’s unplanned break I am slowly climbing back in the saddle. The awful virus that wiped out me and Dom simultaneously has graciously spared the kids. Thanks to you all for well-wishes and check-ins. As Gloria Gaynor once said, “I will survive.”
I hate to miss a party, and all because of this damn virus I missed three! One of which was to be hosted at my home, and resulted in an SOS email to a ton of people begging forgiveness for my illness. As I lay in bed Thursday night, my head splitting open (or so it seemed. Hey, I can be dramatic if I want…) I heard ladies approaching my door, unaware of the last minute change in plans. I managed to get Dom to the door, since he was more dressed than I, but I could not manage the strength to write out a note redirecting folks to the new party location. And with a doorbell that doesn’t ring (don’t even ask) I have no idea how many more people came to my door, turned away confused, and drove back home – like me only in the sense that they, too, were sadly missing the party.
Being sick sucks.
During the four days that I spent in bed I would periodically roll over and think to myself, “I need to write about_____.” Sometimes, I would even craft a paragraph or two in my head. Those brilliant ideas were likely washed out with the sheets, so it may take me a little while to get going again. I made it back to work today, though I felt like I was steering my way through a strange haze. And I wasn’t even medicated!
Now that I have formally declared my continued existence, the next couple of days will be spent resolving the television issue.
Why is it always something?