Brings hands to face.
Gets too much citrus up the nose and starts gagging.
Says to myself “You’re a peach. A peach.”
Gets back in bed.
I look homeless. I’m wearing fuzzy purple socks and an Easter-themed “Everything’s Coming up Bunnies”t-shirt. My hair falls somewhere between frizzy and sleepwalking.
I’ve had a slight cough and chills and hot flashes for the past week, but yesterday I knew I was in trouble. Achy head, uncomfortable sinus pressure, lungs full of yuck, and a sexy, full throated cough that shakes my whole body . Hooray.
I had to call out of work yesterday, and then with a sinking feeling I reread the notice I’d received three days ago (yesterday it finally stopped raining) to cut the grass next to the sidewalk. I had 48 hours (aka time was up) to fix it.This would be fine except my lawnmower has been on the fritz for the past three months. I tried and tried to get it to start but no dice.
I spent an unhappy hour pulling weeds by hand and looking woefully at the longest stretch of overgrowth. I was too tired. There was no way.
Then I had a eureka moment. I quickly texted my friend/neighbor Sarah and she sweetly agreed to let me borrow her weedwacker and clippers. Nose running, head aching, I spent another hour (plus a gas run) pulling weeds, trimming grass, and clipping unruly tree limbs.
Thank God for motorized yard tools and good neighbors.
Afterwards I collapsed on the couch and watched the premier of Grey’s Anatomy, and then I stumbled up to bed.
Today, my normal day off, I really wanted to take a car load of stuff to Goodwill, stop by the bank and the local produce stand, and come home and bake bread and pizza.
I don’t think that’s happening.
Essential oils aside, I’m stinking tired.
Guess it’s me, James Herriot, and whatever movies I’m going to sleep through.