When I called galestorm this morning to cancel our get-together this evening due to my continued cold, she told me I had a great gravelly, after-cigarettes Greta Garbo voice going and I told her it was most definitely the only sexy thing about me today. Still is, although the voice is starting to fade into hoarse croaking. Ribbit
I’m so bummed because I can’t get my hands on my rubber stamps, see hers, give her magazine back, eat Chinese hot-and-sour soup and go to choir.
My brother is arriving tomorrow night and I had better not still be producing great quantities of bodily fluids I’d rather not come into contact with, even if they are my own. The amount of phlegm a human body can produce in the space of a half hour is occupying my mind to much too great an extent this week.
ICK
Sorry. Misery wants company, and if the only way I can get it is to gross you out, so be it.
On the bright side, the kids were at school/daycare today and I had one of those sick day mornings that I was complaining about never getting just yesterday.