Did I mention that I was sick with a touch of the bronchitis last week? I can’t really remember.
And right now someone is yelling at their computer, “YES. YOU MENTIONED IT SEVERAL TIMES. ENOUGH ABOUT YOU AND YOUR STUPID BRONCHITIS.”
To which I’d like to say, “Hey P, why don’t you settle down?”
But since I don’t want to leave y’all with a bronchitis cliffhanger, I’ll let you know that I am doing much better and am only coughing 22 hours a day instead of 24. I’ve also apparently developed a bit of the narcolepsy because if I sit still for more than five minutes I fall into a dead sleep. I’m not sure if this is a side effect of the bronchitis or the medications I’m on.
I’ve also lost my appetite.
For those of you who don’t know me in real life you can’t really appreciate the magnitude of this. I don’t lose my appetite. EVER. I am the girl who can be up all night with a stomach bug and then eat a Frito Pie made from Hormel chili in a can for breakfast the next morning. I think this is a side effect of the antibiotic because it leaves me with a taste in my mouth that’s reminiscent of feet coated in metal and that tends to curb all cravings. So, good news! All this time I’ve just been one bronchial infection away from my goal weight.
Our weekend was pretty uneventful. In fact, I’m sitting here trying to remember what we did. That’s how uneventful it was.
Oh! P left to go to the ranch on Friday afternoon and my friend Michelle came in for the night. We have been friends through some other friends for a few years, but hadn’t really had the chance to get to know each other that well. It’s safe to say that we have now remedied that problem since we each told our life story starting with “I was born in ….” and ending with “…and that’s where I see myself eventually.”
And she won Caroline over for life because she helped her with her soccer moves in the backyard AND let Caroline braid her hair. That isn’t an activity for the faint of heart because it generally involves pain. Especially when she decides to start over and rips the rubber band right out your hair.
After Michelle left on Saturday, Caroline and I had to go run some errands because you know what happens when you spend a whole week being sick? NOTHING. Nothing happens. And so NOTHING has gotten accomplished and you find yourself with a To-Do list that’s a mile long and growls at you.
But after about three errands my narcolepsy started to kick in and I knew I needed to wrap it up. Caroline had big plans to attend a birthday party and spend the night with a friend so I dropped her off and watched the Aggies play Iowa State. We won. But it was a win that only a mother could love. Which is to say IT WAS UGLY.
And then I found I couldn’t move myself off the couch so I spent Saturday night flipping back and forth between episodes of Army Wives and the Texas Tech vs. OU game. I really do lead a lifestyle that’s straight from Keeping Up with the Kardashians.
On Sunday morning I decided my hacking cough might offend the folks at church so Typhoid Betty stayed home. We met Mimi and Bops and my sister and her family at Taco Garage for an early birthday celebration because today is actually Bops’s birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOPS.
Finally, I realized I couldn’t avoid the grocery store any longer. Mainly because we were out of food. Like all food. Like we had a 1/2 pint of sour cream and a piece of moldy cheese in the refrigerator and about six stale wheat crackers in the cabinet. And while some folks in Europe might call that a gourmet lunch, my family in South Texas would call it starving to death.
So I braved the Sunday amateur crowd at HEB to load up on groceries. And now we have milk! And fruit! And ham! And all other manner of foodstuffs that won’t require us to continue to blaze a trail to Chick-Fil-A.
And that was the weekend.
How about you?