So - I waited until after the run of the play (AWESOME, by the by) to get sick. I hope that I am on the 'makes you stronger' side of my traditional 'what doesn't kill you' equation. Yesterday, was trying to figure out my temp (i felt a little warm, so thought "hey, i have a digital thermometer... let's test it out. Sorta like EverBabe and her blood sugar monitor.) But then ran into a bunch of problems, from the simple (can't find it) to the frustrating (REALLY can't find the %^$^ thing) to the impossible (HOW THE F DID I TURN IT OVER TO CELSIUS CRAP WAIT WHAT'S 37 TIMES 9 DIVIDED BY 5 63 THAT ISN'T VERY HIGH AM I DEAD OH YEAH ADD 32) to determine that my temperature was 98.6. Wow, I must be dying. {grin} (no that's like a fever for ME, as i'm normally in the low But did feel vindicated today, now that it has ended up at 100.0 (F) (37.8, for those of you on the far side of the pond.) (simes - pretty much it's you there.)
Dennis Leary, in one of the most romantic songs. Ever. Not really. Some strong language, in his standard style. Don't watch it, if you can't handle strong language.
And LN's favorite commercial. "Maybe I *do* want to be a french fry." Don't know what that tells you about her, that she would enjoy it, or me, that I would tell you that she enjoys it. But there is much I don't know right now - 100 degree fever, remember? Also - I could be wrong - it could just be her favorite right NOW. Right?
PS - crap my temp fell to 97 during the writing of this post. stupid chilled drinks.
PPS - why is that bad? lower = better, right? must be a martyr.
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