9 10 2007

I am sick. I have one of those colds that creeps into your throat and then expands, seeping down your bones. I’m not hungry. The only thing I want is some kind of magical elixir that will wipe these germs out of the inside of my throat [cut to a hand holding a towel, cleaning the inside of a glass vase, making that squeaky sound].  Said elixir would have to taste like a mud slide (i.e. bushwhacker). I would settle for just the mudslide right now… or perhaps some warm apple cider.

I don’t really mind being sick because most people feel sorry for you when you’re sick… even 8th graders. My kids were so quiet today. So I don’t mind feeling a bit under the weather. However, I hate, hate, hate, loathe having a cold when it’s not even cold outside. I don’t understand that. If I have a cold, I want to be curled up on the couch, swathed in blankets, sipping something cold and relishing the warmth that emanates from the mug. But no! I am laid out on the couch in a tank top drinking Sprite (or, “Tangy” as Ruthie calls it) with the fan pointed directly at me.

Ah, well. Tonight I will dream of places that are cool in September. Cool enough to wear perhaps a light scarf and one of those cute corduroy jackets from J. Crew. Mmmmm.