La Peste

Well golly, there's nothing like strep throat to give a hard workin' gal an unwanted vacation. Here I am at home with my gigantic red antibiotics, reading my cat's blog, and having a minor nervous breakdown about--you guessed it--getting everything done.

At least I'm really not all that tired, considering I spent much of the night consuming blue popsicles and attending to various juvenile requests.

24 hours until I'm not contagious. But what to do until then? If only I hadn't squandered my fevered insanity of Sunday evening on sleeping and complaining, instead of writing feverishly insane poems.

And no, it's not a case of praire fever, in case you wondered.

Comments

Bailey said…
How 'bout next time you're not so stingy with the popsicles, huh?
Frank said…
And here I thought you were writing poetry. At least reciting it. Like freestylin'.
Stephanie King said…
The cat's blog is probably the best thing I've seen on the internet.... EVER.
Penultimatina said…
I agree, Stephanie. Cats have just the right attitude to blog.