I don’t FEEL well.  I cannot say that enough.  I keep hoping that if I admit it, and accept it, and move on.. it will lessen.

But I still don’t FEEL well.

What’s worse is being sick with your significant other.  Because, in your heart of hearts, you really want to take care of them before you take care of yourself.  You want to.. you even mean to.. but you’re sick
too.  You’re just as tired and cranky and irritable and snotty.  And to make them feel better, you really want to kiss them deeply and ease their pain.. but then you realize that neither one of you can breathe.

A birthday lunch sounds loverly!  The best things come in threes, you know.  Three of us, lunching on the third.. that sounds very covenly.  We might be able to conjure some spirits that day.. “Let the power of 9/3 combine!”

Ugh, I don’t feel well.  I hate not feeling well because my humor definitely suffers.  See former paragraph for example.

*This used to contain a very pointed and evil remark, but has been removed to show my maturity.*

I’m very defensive when I don’t feel well.  Everything gets under my skin.  So don’t try me.

It just occurs to me that “covenly” is not a word.  Well, screw you.  What are you, the word Nazi?

I don’t FEEL well.

I’ve been ultra-productive today, in my attempts to forget that I’m sick.  Now I’m left with nothing to do.  Which means more for you to read!  Hooray! (and the crowd goes wild)

Why does water taste bad when you’re sick?

You know you’re loved when he calls, hears you’re sick, and picks up your favorite nose spray on the way to your house, even though he strongly disagrees with the medication because he thinks it’s addictive but you don’t care because DEAR LORD you can breathe again.  That’s love, by Sarah Brown.

Or Suria Brown.  That’s the original Biblical version of my name, as I was schooled today.  Not the Brown part, though.  Just Suria.

Bored yet?  Yep, me too.