I Don't Do Boring

Sometimes I really wish I did, though!

Wednesday

There I am, driving along, minding my own business and keeping a safe following distance from the car in front of me. Said car slams on the brakes. So do I. I had just enough time to look in the rear-view mirror and think, "Oh, shit."

No panic, no wild dramatics, just a simple, calmly stated, "Oh, shit."

Then the impact, which was, fortunately, very, very, very minor. It was actually just two small bumps. No airbag deployment, no seatbelt digging into my chest, nothing. Withing seconds I realized I was okay, and that Rosie was still running, so I turned her off and set the emergency flashers on. The two guys in the van behind me were okay, and the two kids in the car behind the van were okay. A very nice lady who witnessed the accident stopped and did her best to help out. I moved Rosie out of the road to a nearby parking lot and waited for the police to come.

The good news: Rosie the Protege sustained only the most minor of scratches on what proved to be a very sturdy back bumper.

The better news: No one was hurt.

But still, it shook me up.

Thursday

It started as the tiniest of tickles. "Well, damn, I'm getting a small cold." No problem, I'll just drink lots of water and hopefully it will blow over.

By the end of the day I wasn't feeling too bad, even though I had an anonymous parent call me to complain about how I'm not doing enough fundraising for her kid to go on a field trip (I wanted to scream at her but teachers must be diplomatic). Oh, and an irate email from a student (to my campus account, they don't know my personal email) about how "not everyone is rich." I'm sure it was her mother who called, but since Mama didn't have the cajones to tell me her name...

Anyway. Annoying, but not insurmountable.

I helped out at the Talent Show that evening, and was just starting to feel a little bit worse. I got home a little bit after 9:00, took some NyQuil, and went to bed. I had grand plans for Friday and the three-day weekend beyond.

Grand Plans

The plan was to work all day Friday and head up to Lincoln as soon as possible after school to avoid driving in the rain at dark. Today is Mom and Dad's 39th wedding anniversary, so Dad was going to take us all to a nice dinner and then to a John Stewart concert. Mom and Dad have been fans of John for years (he's a folk singer) and I've seen him once in concert, with them. He wrote some good stuff--including "Daydream Believer," which was made a huge hit by the Monkees later.

Anyhow, plans changed.

Friday

I woke up Friday morning feeling quite wretched. Then, in the shower, I coughed so hard I threw up (yeah, I know, too much information). As I sat there hunched over the drain, I briefly thought about calling in sick, but we have a policy at my school. You absolutely cannot take a personal necessity day at either end of a vacation or holiday weekend. If you take a sick day, they can ask you for a doctor's note to prove you were really sick.

So I thought, "Hell, it was only my gag reflex, so I'll just tough it out at school."

I got to school and had 4 different people (three of them mothers) tell me, "Go home!!"

*cough* *sniffle* "Okay." *cough* Didn't have to tell me twice.

My house secretary (a dear woman) found a sub to cover my classes and I met up with him in my classroom to throw together a last-minute plan for the day. I left school at about 8:45. Yesterday was an "even" day, meaning only periods 2,4 and 6 met (we have block scheduling).

By the end of 2nd period, as my advanced group was getting out of class, I was pulling into Mom and Dad's driveway. To say the least, Mom was surprised to see her bedraggled daughter on the doorstep (Dad was at work for a few hours) with cat carrier in hand--they weren't expecting me for hours and hours!

By the end of 4th period (start of lunchtime), I was curled up on the sofa under two very warm blankets, shivering like mad (never a good sign).

By the end of 6th period, I was feeling seriously rotten. Fever, headache, sore through, sneezes that would leave me coughing...Pure misery.

Today

I woke up at 3:30 this morning to use the loo and take some more meds. I woke up again at 6:30 to Millie howling incessantly and crawling all over the bed. I dozed on and off from then on, noticing that first Dad, and later Mom, came in to check on me (once a parent, always a parent!). Mom later told me that Millie came to her and wouldn't stop howling until Mom came to check on me. It's quite sweet that she was worried about me, even if all that racket kept me awake.

(And people think cats are dumb.)

I'm still pretty sick, but a combination of DayQuil, aspirin and plenty of liquids have me at least feeling somewhat human. Unfortunately, I don't feel well enough to go to the John Stewart concert with Mom and Dad, which is disappointing. I've been looking forward to going for a couple weeks now.

The upside is that now I'll be home to watch the Budweiser Shootout--a non-points race that is the traditional prelude to next weekend's season-opening Daytona 500. NASCAR's back after it's long winter's nap. Go Junior!!!

So now, after all this whining, I'll just leave off with...

Mom and Dad

Could a gal have better parents? Nope. First off, I show up sick and whiny on their doorstep. Then I'm not allowed to do anything but rest. Mom made me tea, heated up some soup, and made her famous chicken and dumplings for dinner at my request--even when, at one point, I wasn't sure I'd be able to eat them (I managed!).

Dad went out to get more NyQuil and DayQuil for me, and seriously, how cute is it that both of them peeked in my room this morning to check on me?

To top it all off, it's their anniversary and they've got their adult daughter loafing on the sofa coughing, sniffling and, in general, looking miserable. To top it all off, I brought my laundry with me because I didn't get around to doing it last weekend at my own place, so my sweaters and trousers are hanging all over one part of the house (I don't put them in the dryer). They don't complain. Dad even set up his special TV tray next to the sofa so I could set my tea and a box of tissue on it.

I am very blessed.

Don't Stop Me Now

It probably doesn't say much for my musical tastes, but you know...I just have to say that "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen has to be one of my favorite songs ever.

I'm sorry, but any song with the line "I'm a sex machine ready to reload/like an atom bomb about to whoa, oh, oh explode" is an instant classic in my book. Add the killer guitar and a fast pace, and you've got one fun song. I have fabulous memories of this song--like dancing like a maniac to it in England with a bunch of people who were very important to me.

So forgive me, music snobs, but I'm just going to throw it out there: I love this song.

That is all.

Quite Possibly...

...one of the handsomest men ever. And the voice! The voice!



That is all I have to say.

Potty For Potter

Well, I'm sure this is old news by now, but I'm still excited. The last book of the Harry Potter series will be released on July 21, 2007. I'm both thrilled (Yay! We finally get to see how it ends!) and sad (*sigh*...it's ending?). Mostly thrilled. I know I'll continue to re-read these wonderful books for many years. And maybe J.K. Rowling will write more books--not Harry Potter-related, of course, but she's got such a talent.

Besides, once the books are done, we'll still have three more movies to see.