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11:19 a.m. - 2010-01-11
Wheezing my way home to you, darlin'.

Of the three of us I am the most ill. Which makes sense because I've been running around fussing over the other two and not resting as I should have been. Wolf is home today because of a school conference day or in-service or whatever the hell they call it when the kids stay home and the teachers go in and have confabs. Perhaps they just throw a big kegger. (Teachers in the audience, please confirm?) Glad enough the child had the day off though, he still looks peaky. He's freaked that I may insist he stay home tomorrow and that's the day the Big Social Studies Project is due. Wolf's worried Ms B will flunk him for not handing it in on time if he's absent. I told him no sane teacher would flunk a student for staying home when he's sick, it would be the opposite and that she'd be glad he stayed home to mend well and not be there spreading his crud around for others to catch. Ms B certainly seems sane enough to me, I told him, but if she did something wacky like marking his project harshly because of 'lateness' that I would go to school and spank her. That made him laugh and realize his worry was a big old ball of unnecessary angst.

I feel like death on toast with ick sauce. When MIL called this morning to suggest we tootle off to the gym I laughed, which turned into a coughing fit which made my head swoony and I ended up doing an abrupt sit-down on the kitchen floor. A controlled crash, as it were. In any case the gym is out of the question and will be for the rest of the week. MIL made properly sympathetic noises but still managed to slip in a couple good whacks with the guilt stick suggesting that perhaps I'd get better faster if I got off my ass and made myself go to the gym. Babying myself wasn't going to help and the best cure for a chest cold and lightheadedness is a good hour on the treadmill. Yeah, sounds like just the ticket. I'll get right on that as soon as I can bend over to put my sneakers on and not fall over on my face.

MIL reminds me of a gym teacher I had in the 7th grade who used to exhort girls who were menstruating to get up and work harder instead of lollygagging on the bleachers. Makes your period flow faster! It's good for you! Just get it going a gusher! We are women! Hear us roar, watch us bleed! Yup, that's exactly what a 13 year old girl who's still trying to figure out all that period stuff and not die of embarrassment wants to hear. By that time most of us had had at least one messy incident at school and lived in terror of bleeding through our jeans ever again, and that whack-a-doo was pushing us to make the mess worse?

MIL and Coach McFee were probably classmates together at St Brigita's Academy for Hopeful Martyrs. 'Proudly preparing young women for the auto-de-fe since 1481.'

Feh. I'm going to check on the kid and then go take a nice long steamy bath.


Feeling crummy. ~LA

11 Wanna talk about it!

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