what do you MEAN it’s possible to get a cold the week after Thanksgiving, try to take of yourself, drink an entire bottle of Robitussin (in doses, duh), take an entire ‘course’ of Luscious Prednisone (again, in doses, DUH) and then….
END UP WITH A COLD AGAIN??
This is too much. It just cannot be possible. But alas, and alack, it is. We went to see Walk the Line last night (fabulous, really enjoyed it even if not a big Cash fan*) and then got drive thru from Steak n’ Shake (real food, not a sippable sundae) and I ate it and it was deeeelicious and then I went to bed and Gene came to bed around 5 complaining of killer heartburn. That’s when I noticed, Huh, my nose has that “you’re getting a cold” feeling. And then, then I did what any smart girl would do. I wept.
I’m just going to let the bird flu take me. On the bright side, I’m going to post my abbreviated will right now:
Scooby and Betty get all the consumable food in the house, except the chocolate.
D gets all the chocolate.
Brandy’s baby gets all the cash in my wallet, plus the Gymbucks in my wallet and on my desk.
My little brother gets all of my DVDs.
I would like to be buried in my wedding dress and carrying my iPod. Actually, can I be buried in my PJ pants and a gigantic tshirt? In true Egyptian fashion, I’d like to be buried with stuff for the afterlife, so if someone could pick up some Pepsi, Peanut Butter cups and cookies w/ sprinkles, that would be great.
(*actually, while I’m not a Cash fan, I have tentatively agreed to give a future son the middle name Cash. I like verbs as middle names, what can I say?)