I have laryngitis. I don't know if this has ever happened to you, but it's really very annoying. Thank goodness I can still type (although watch me get fingeritis next, because that's how the MF cookie has been crumbling around here). I do realize things could be much much worse (I got to eat pizza last night!), and so I hereby do solemnly swear that no talk of illness shall issue forth from my fingers next week. It will all be sunshine, rainbows and sparkle puppies licking bubblegum ice cream cones with unicorns on top.
But that's next week. Today we are headed to the quiet box.
I think you can read.
Via Head Over Heels
I'm not dead yet (imagine my best Monty Python impression), so I would like to spend my convalescence in a room that is quiet, yes -- relaxing and soothing. But also interesting. There has to be a little something something going on to inspire me to fully recover and conquer truly urgent, earth shattering problems, like how am I going to wean Ike off all this horrible TV I've been letting him watch while we both lay on the couch like plague infested slugs?
I promise. No talk of sickness next week. Not one word.