March 21st, 2004

A Pocket Full of Murder

Ill Tidings

For the past few days, my husband has had the flu. I knew he wasn't feeling well because whenever he got home from work he went straight to the couch and lay down (whereas he usually waits until after dinner for his nap); plus he took some medicine, which is almost unheard of. But I realized he must be feeling really bad when he got somebody else to take a speaking engagement for him on Thursday evening, and then actually took the day off on Friday, because his throat was too sore and hoarse for him to speak.

However, even when ill, he is still subject to what I like to call the "German Farmboy Work Ethic", which dictates that man was not meant to be happy or comfortable, but rather to Get Things Done. In other words, unless you are actually vomiting out internal organs, you have better things to do than lie around all day, you slacker.

So, on his sick day, my husband wallpapered our front hallway... and revarnished the baseboards... and filled in some holes in the ceramic tile. Then, not surprisingly, he collapsed onto the sofa and stayed there for the rest of the day.

And now, I'm coming down with the same symptoms, two days before my birthday. Sigh.
A Pocket Full of Murder

On a happier note...

...after four weeks of eating Zoneishly, I've lost ten pounds. And the Big Project that was hanging over my head is now 99% complete -- just have to get the client's approval on the final draft, and I'll be done. Yay!

April's going to be a busy month, though -- I have two singing engagements plus a choir performance, two (possibly three) conferences to attend, and a 1500-word essay to write, among other things. Aiee! I'll be glad when it's over.