It’s like rain on your wedding day. Like a free ride when you’ve already paid.
You know the day of bliss I was so looking forward to? The one that had me filled with glee? So giddy that my size 12’s barely touched the ground last week?
I got sick.
I never get sick. Well, I may have an allergy attack at the first of spring, and an occasional winter cold, but really, I hardly ever get sick.
Saturday morning I felt so bad that all I could do was point Lovegirl downstairs to hang out with her father. I woke up feverishly hot every four hours, downed another alka seltzer plus, and went back to sleep. Sunday, I felt better, but not good. Apparently taking such a copious amount of alka seltzer plus and not eating anything is not such a great idea. So now, I’m hot, congested and a little sick to my stomach. Lovegirl’s whining about not going anywhere “So we’re not going anywhere because you’re sick? That’s not fair.” Don’t talk fair to me little girl – I’d planned out eating breakfast by myself at a slow leisurely pace tomorrow morning! The phone rang all day, and I pretty much ignored it. Until Pserendipity called – I probably sounded like a raving lunatic – sorry honey – blame it on the cold medicine!!
Anyhoo, Monday morning I dropped Lovegirl off with Ms. D and went home to liquor myself up with NyQuil at 4 hour intervals. But I’m not bitter that my me-cation (thanks Yolanda, I love it!) was ruined by a summer cold. Not at all.
Isn’t it ironic?