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Musings

  • Apparently, the project plan for my latest endeavor at work was written by Kafka.  After a 3 day cocaine binge.  During a practice run of the Apocalypse.
  • We’ve hit that beautiful part of spring here in Kentucky where it’s too nice to stay inside, but too chilly to hang out on the deck and work.
  • Getting sick was not on my agenda for the week.
    • Woke up Monday with a bit of a headache and feeling pretty crummy.  Since I have it on good authority that I am allergic to everything that grows in Kentucky, and the snow has melted, I assumed it was hay fever.  Took two allergy tablets and a 10 hour nap.
    • Woke up on Tuesday feeling like something scraped off the bottom of a burn barrel in Tegucigalpa. Still had my sense of taste, but a low-grade fever, chills, body aches, and headache all came to party.  After a telehealth visit with my doctor’s APRN, during which I self-reported my own vitals, I drove to the doctor’s office and got tested for flu and Covid.  Upon returning to my 3-bedroom-ranch-of-solitude, I took a random assortment of medications and vitamins, drank a hogshead of cold water, and passed out until Wednesday.
    • Woke up Wednesday feeling slightly less subhuman.  What woke me was a cheerful message from my doctor’s office that I was negative for both flu and Covid.  So, I assume that I either have plague, malaria, or a head cold.
    • By Thursday, all I had was the feeling of being run over, repeatedly, by a wooly mammoth in heat, along with the inability to speak in much more than a hoarse growl.
    • Today, I’m just tired and back to being my wonderfully grouchy self. It’s sort of a cross between a bear, a cape buffalo, and a siamese cat.
    • Irish Woman is glad that I’m up and around, but has reminded me that I am not on the “can have a pissy attitude this week” roster at the moment.  She has offered, on multiple occasions, to adjust my attitude if that’s what I need.  Where would I be without her?
  • The components for Irish Woman’s pool arrived this morning.  All of the things I had ‘organized’ in the garage were ‘reorganized’ to make room in front of the garage door for sundry boxes, bags, bundles, and bull—-.  She is convinced that she will be floating around, drinking a fruity drink, by Kentucky Derby.  I am convinced that I will never find anything in the garage ever again.
  • This weekend’s activities include picking up trash with the Boy Scouts along an overly-used two-lane rural highway, an archery tournament with Boo, hopefully putting 75 strawberry plants into dirt, doing the weekend laundry and housecleaning, and watching at least one classic monster movie for family time.  Everyone always told me that things would start to slow down as I got older.  If I ever get my hands on those lying so-and-so’s, I’m going to be on the 11 o’clock news as the quiet neighbor that never had trouble with anyone until ‘the incident’.
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3 Comments

  1. I think you’re gonna need a bigger weekend.

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  2. mrgarabaldi

     /  March 21, 2021

    Hey DB;

    Well it is “Only one hour a week”, that what I was told when my son was in the Boy Scouts…He has since Eagled out but I am still involved.. I think we were sold a bill of goods on that one……..LOL

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  3. Old NFO

     /  March 21, 2021

    Glad you didn’t get the Wuflu… it’s NOT fun. And yeah, you’re gonna need more weekend. 🙂 And if we see ‘Breaking News’ out of Kentucky, we’ll be checking… just sayin… 🙂

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