I am sick.
Miserable, ugly, whimpering call home to mom sick.
I feel so unwell that I want to curl up in a dark corner and be alone.
Of course I want there to be a ring of 3 to 7 people on the edges of that ring offering back rubs, hot tea, eggs with toast with little caps on the yolks and much head nodding about how sick I really am and how awful it is and how brave I am to soldier on.
Ironically, I am home alone, hunched in the cold glow of the computer, sipping a lime seltzer because oh-my-holy-god I could not choke down more than two shuddering sips of apple pedialyte. Yeah, I know it's for kids, but not having Gatorade or any other ade in the house I figured I'd give it a shot. I am now celebrating in my quiet, miserable sick way the advent of the last fucking time I will ever let Padi-lyte pass my lips. I don't think I'll be able to administer it to either girl with a clear conscience either. I don'tthink the world will need if they get Gatorade instead, their ratio of natural and wholesome to awful and processed will still be toelrable.
Since I have no wit or wisdom to impart thank to this bitch of a whatever
(Cards, calls, emails and bouquets happily accepted...)
I leave you with these photos of my family. They are just fine with me at less than 100%. Look for yourself.
Sean is exercising the dog.
And Avery is just chillin' like a mermaid.
G'night.
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