I have a nasty cold and I’m feeling terribly sorry for myself. Not so much because I have a cold, I get one every fall, and it’s irritating but hardly life threatening. No, I’m sad because last night I had to miss two of my favorite things, my book club and my study group. It would have been a perfect night of back to back groups of smart women talking about books and other fun stuff while eating fabulous food and drinking wine.
Sammy came home and found me curled up on the sofa with the girls. He immediately took in my lank hair, pink nose, and eyes too swollen for contacts and said rather unkindly, “You’re not going out like that are you?” I said I was just going to go get ready and I would look much better. I sneezed, blew my nose and stood up to go get dressed and then he said this horrible thing, “No one will want to sit by you.” Could that be true? I coughed, sneezed some more, and reevaluated the situation. And I stayed home.
Here is my literary rendition of the rest of the night with Sammy.
He took my temperature,
Patted my head,
Made me a screwdriver,
And sent me to bed.
Did I mention he said vitamin C would make me a better person?
So today I hope to feel good enough to do a lot of proofreading, and maybe, by this afternoon, make some of Richard’s favorite chicken noodle soup which will undoubtedly take me much closer to good health than Sammy’s dubious orange juice cure.
