I'm slightly sick.
Not really sick. No sniffling, no coughing, no daggers in the throat. Just a slight fever, slight sore throat and a very difficult time focusing. On anything.
It's the kind of sick that may be gone in the morning. Or will mostly be worse come morning.
It's also the kind of sick that usually means I mope around the house, incapable of doing anything other then moping. And finding things that annoy me.
For instance. I'm annoyed at the fly that is treating my bathroom like a bachelor pad. For some reason I was under the impression that fly's only lived 24 hours, so I did not bother to go buy a fly swatter when I first noticed said fly. Now it's day three and the damn thing is as perky as ever.
I'm also mildly annoyed at The Boy. The over head light in my kitchen has gone out. Fixing lights is clearly The Boy's job. And when I realized I actually thought that the tiny little bit of feminist in me hung herself. Seriously, where did that thought process come from? I do everything myself and suddenly there is a boy around and all I'm capable of is lounging on the couch and eating chocolates? Then I look around me, realizing I am lounging on the couch eating chocolates.
Dove chocolate to be exact. Yum yum.
But I had to. I needed something to wash down the icky medicine.
icky
icky
medicine.
You know what also helps when I'm sick? Andrea Bocelli. I don't know what he's singing, but I'm sure it's a lullaby mixed with healing magic.
I have to be better by Saturday. Saturday is the Renaissance Festival. And I have a pretty dress to wear.
I'm never growing up.
You can still consider yourself a feminist if you utilize your sexuality to get him to change the lightbulb. As long as both parties acknowledge that you can do it and his doing it has nothing to do with preconceived notions of archaic gender roles.
ReplyDeleteOh, and maybe we should meet in LA this weekend. It's my birthday, remember.