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Tea and Sympathy

I was going to title this post `Yippee for Snot" but I decided against it. I liked the title so much I had to share it with you anyway. I am not, however, going share the Snot Song and Dance Routine that I performed a few hours ago in our upstairs hall to the delight and amusement of my husband because some things? Are private.

That said, I'm finally feeling a little better today. A little better in that I still feel basically like hell on a stick, but at least I have recovered enough that I can make up songs about it. I will tell you a little secret. When I'm sick, I am a sad and whiny little girl. I complain so much you would almost think that I'm a man. Anyway, great progress has been made. I showered. I did my hair (well, sorta). I've been wearing actual real clothes all day instead of pajamas. I went to the dentist. Trust me, if you already feel like crap you may as well go ahead and go to the dentist because it can't get much worse. (On an aside, which I swear will be short because I am trying really hard to stick to a topic today, my new dentist is a woman. I guess that my dentists have always been men, so this issue never came up before. It distresses me a little that when my dentist is checking my teeth her breasts are pushed up against the side of my face. I have nothing against breasts, I just feel like I don't know her well enough for that.) I have also accomplished actual work today. I have been accomplishing actual work the entire time I've been sick, but today I'm finally alert enough to have a clue what I'm doing. I guess sooner or later I'd better figure out what it is I've been doing the last few days. But if it were really bad, somebody would have caught it, right?

Forget that one topic thing - time for another tangent. For some reason, I have a major aversion to using contractions when I write. I have to go back and edit things to add the contractions so I don't sound like a robot or snob. (Ok, more of a snob.) I blame my third grade teacher for drilling into my head that contractions had no place in formal writing. I also blame her for the fact that I never learned the multiplication tables and to this day have to count on my fingers for 6 times 7 and 7 times 8.

That's enough - I have 600 lines left to review on the 8000 line spreadsheet that's due today. Wanna play a game? Question 1: How long have I had this spreadsheet? Question 2: When did I start working on it?

(Answers: Q1: A week and a half. Q2: 8:00 this morning.)

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Comments (5)

You act like there's something wrong with procrastination. I've found that if you really work at it, it can become an art form.

I too am a man-sick girl! I whine and schlump around like I have (hee, no contraction) small pox, rather than a wee cold.

Not to be too gross, but I once went in for a filling when I had a bad yeast infection because I figured the filling would take my mind off my real problem. Now why won't my regular doctor call in a prescription for nitrous oxide when I have a yeast infection? It was quite effective.

Guess it's useless to hope for you to turn the Snot Song and Dance into a scripted broadway musical, but if you did, I bet it would run (ew) a long time.

My dentist is a woman. However, thankfully, her breasts are not big enough to get in my face while she's working. I've never really considered it before, but right now? I am immensely glad.

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So the Fish Said...

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear.

- Walt Whitman

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