Sunday,
February 17, 2002

Snurfle honk ACHOO

Yup, I'm sick -- have prescription drugs to prove it and everything (Bactrim and some sort of pill form of a tussive, if you're wondering). The nice crew-cutted doctor (hmm, I just wondered if maybe he's in the Reserves or something -- he certainly had a military bearing) at the Plano Minor Emergency Center took my history, looked in my ears, announced that I had a low-grade fever and my eardrums hadn't retracted much from the pressure change during the plane flight (no shit, Sherlock -- I still can't hear dick out of my right ear) and pronounced me in possession of Steve's sinusitis.

Tra-la. So I did what any normal, sane woman would do -- I went home, took my drugs like a dutiful girl and collapsed for the rest of the afternoon. Technically I should have been working on help files, but I don't think the results would have been appreciated, or even legible. When I did finally get up, I spent the afternoon puttering around on the net and answering some long-delayed messages, and wrapped everything up with the completion of the last four journal entries.

And yes, I know this isn't the most fascinating entry I've ever done. Give me a break -- I have to get up tomorrow morning at oh dark thirty to haul the Man from McKinney to the airport, then go into work and finish a buttload of stuff, then go back to McKinney and babysit his kids (and yes, I know I'm sick, but they were sick with this stuff first so I assume they now have antibodies).

I did come up with a new personal mantra while drifting in and out of sleep this afternoon, though --

Life's too short for regrets.

I like it. Take it to the bank, kids.