Whoa is me. Whoa is me. I’m having a pity party. Both Madelene and I have the flu. She’s sicker than I am, so needless to say, I’m taking care of her ‘for now’, but we are both in bad shape. Yesterday she came home early from work. They sent 75% of her office home due to people complaining of flu-like symptoms. As soon as she came home, she was hacking up a lung, sneezing ten million times (which is no different from any other day) and complained of body aches. I took her temperature, and it was 102 degrees.
Not even an hour later, I’m coughing up a lung, hacking away, sneezing up a storm and my eyes were all watery. My head felt like a huge waffle. I don’t know if it was sympathy pains or what—but we are both home sick today. The worst part about it, is that Madelene made reservations at my favorite sushi restaurant for my birthday tomorrow, and we were going out dancing afterwards. Instead, we'll be home with piles of tissues and empty bowls of chicken soup laying around.
Now, you all know that I have OCD and wash my hands---like a hundred times per day, right? You all know that I carry antibacterial gel in my purse at all times, right? You all know that I never touch a doorknob with my bare hands, right? So how did I get sick? I’m a fanatic with cleanliness.
As I type this all out, I have a man from the ACME Company setting up a huge bubble for me. Yes, it’s true. I’m going to be living in a bubble that’s half the size of my living room. They installed long arms that are protected with rubber so I can use the remote control for the TV, as well slap Madelene when needed for giving me the virus.
No need to congratulate me on my new home--I can actually travel with this thing! I'll probably be offline for the next day or so. Say a prayer for us.
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