It happened. I suspected it would late yesterday. By the overnight I knew. Tight chest. Sore throat. Chills. I felt like crap when I woke up this morning. My morning coffee tasted like rancid mud. When Lisa got home from running a few errands earlier today, I had no voice. Laryngitis. Chest congestion. She took one look at me and said, "Looks like a repeat of January..." Yep.
She then asked, "How long does laryngitis last?" I told her a few days to a week or more. I detected a smile and joy when she replied with, "Oh, that's too bad...."
Resting. Bitch. Face.
All joking aside, I knew she felt bad. It's Sunday. The upcoming week is not the most convenient week for me to be sick.
I have a ton of stuff to do.
I'm still trying to catch up.
It's the only week, until the first week of May, that we won't be pup and house sitting for our neighbor friends.
Sigh.
I'm having a medicine head visual.
The Universe takes notice of my well planned and thorough schedule for the next week, and my confidence that I'll get everything done. And maybe, get a little ahead of schedule.
At that point, the Universe chuckles a bit.
Takes a swig of beer.
Then says, "Here, hold my beer..."
Which leads to my current status.
Sick.
A challenge, yes.
But, I won't be defeated.
I'll hold the Universe's beer in one hand.
In the other hand I'll raise my wine glass. Toss an antibiotic and some DayQuil in my mouth. Wash it all down with the contents in my glass.
We'll have a few laughs.
Laugh until we choke.
And, hopefully, towards the end of the week, the Universe will shrug and say, "I knew you'd get through this."
She's good like that.
Her beer bottle and my wine glass will clink as we cheer.
Until the next challenge.
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