First the good news: Theron and Oli had a rad spring break, getting spoiled by both sets of grandparents and frollicking their butts off. Oli actually looks a little slimmer. Grandma Mary and Grandpa Richard even took Theron to see Diary of a Wimpy Kid meaning that Ash and I didn't have to fight over whose turn it was, so yay for us, thank you!
Also, the first day I was home sick the postman brought an ice chest of Godiva chocolate from the Easter Bunnies in Santa Maria. Oh, yes. Truffles. Yes.
Anyway, though, things overall weren't so rosy. I ask you, is there anything more wonderful than breathing out of your own nostrils? I spent 8 days coughing, gripping my ravaged throat, needing sleep yet writhing in pain because my head and legs felt bruised by my own bed. My bed. That I love. My friend, down pillow, stained with red wine and balsamic vinegar like tattoos of my devotion, became bedrock hurting all of my hair follicles, both the regular ones and the grey ones that popped up overnight in handfuls.
I say it could have been worse because I imagined I had H1N1 and pink eye. I finally went to the doctor because I was done watching streaming videos on Netflix and Googling "grey phlegm". She says brochitis and a sinus infection so bad the snot overflowed my eye orbit, gluing it together every morning. She gave me antibiotics and I am saved. Still sick, but the bed is welcoming once again, and most importantly, there is a black dog to nap with - so all is well.
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