Sorry for the delay in new material. I had journeyed back home to Long Island this past weekend for my cousin’s Sweet 16 and a Super Bowl party, fully intending to return to work on Monday. Instead, I spent Monday morning puking my guts out and running a fever that finally peaked that afternoon at 103.6. Hey, if it’s worth doing…
I will admit that I was glad this 24-hour mega-bug struck while I was under the careful watch of Mom. Sure, I would have been fine on my own (even though I don’t own a thermometer), but I like to think being home helped me get better quicker.
It was also an educational experience. There was a lot that I was sure to take note of while I was convalescing on the couch…
1) My dog has a very set routine and any deviation from it is unacceptable.
2) The term “fever dream” exists for a reason. When my temperature finally began to come down, I had an hour’s worth of the strangest, most disturbing dreams I can recall in a long time. Apparently, the gates of your subconscious are the first things a virus attacks.
3) There is entirely too much lovey-dovey hoo-hah in Casino Royale for a true James Bond movie.
4) If you throw up hard enough, you give your lower back a tremendous work-out.
5) If Joe Torre talks slowly and gravelly enough, people will believe anything he says.
6) Apparently, hostages were exchanged like baseball cards between Roman governors and the Gallic tribes they ruled. (Yeah, still reading that Caesar biography)
7) Queen of the Damned is an unfathomably bad movie.
Once I’m back in fighting shape, expect more of the same silliness from yours truly here on the blog.