Couldn’t wait to wake up this morning.

I knew I would be cured.

After all, it has been 7 days of the silence of the lambs.  Ooops.  Silence of the chicken butt.

“Not so fast, my pretty”, said the wicked witch.

Open mouth.

You guessed it:  Nothing.

Now what?

Sensing a need for more cough syrup, the mutant drove to the pharmacy and immediately found herself engaged in a non verbal conversation.

“What you need is a nice cheese steak, with hot sauce,” said the lovely lady behind the counter.

I tried to tell her that what I really need is a nice cup of hemlock, but she just replied: “Oh that’s good.”

Moving right along, to the grocery store, to get more cat food.

You know, most people go to the store once a week.

I am making that trip, it seems, every other day.

My cats are into their groceries, big time.

As I trudged up the stairs with the cat food and cough syrup, I was greeted by 2 fat felines.

Oh those poor babies.  So hungry.

After all I was gone about 45 minutes.

Time for my antibiotic, which immediately make me sleepy, so off to bed I go again.

What the hell.

It isn’t even noon.

As the afternoon sped by, I had a feeling that there was an interloper in the picture.

Yes, the Oh Wow cat is checking out my condition every 15 minutes or so, to see if I am still alive I guess, and will be able to feed his ass.

I made the supreme sacrifice, got up, fed the interloper and his sister, and ate a banana.

Made a mental note:  “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Not so hot.  Still sore throat and ears, coughing and run down.”

Yes, I talk to myself.

Not out loud, of course.

I have no voice.

I hope that fat boy comes in soon.

I am ready to party.

It’s super bowl Sunday!

I have my night night pill, my cough medicine and a good old bottle of water,  to carry into bed, to watch the game.

Should be a wild night.

Until tomorrow






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