Wednesday, April 13, 2011

David and Goliath

Over the past twenty-four hours I have succumbed to a hacking chest cold.  The microscopic critters who invaded my space without permission have beaten me into submission without so much as raising a cilia (do viruses have those?)  I am chilled, coughing with reluctance because it hurts, and generally feeling like shit.

Their power to level a being millions upon millions of times larger than they, is humbling.  That said,  I am able to devote time to writing without feeling guilty about chores left undone - my silver lining in this germ-filled cloud that is my brain.

My primary cat, the ever-present Elvis, is demanding my full attention by: 1) nudging the laptop to try and move it out of his way, and 2) failing that, reaching a paw out to swat my cheek.  He's now falling back to regroup - one wonders what plan B will entail.

I mentioned fever to Carol, expecting sympathy.  A frown and the simple word "And?" reminding me in her own loving way that things like ADVIL or TYLENOL are in order.  She brought me two A's.  No sympathy.  Since she reads this, I must admit that the soup and toast she brought me for dinner was just right.

Elvis is back, time to sign off.

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