I spent the weekend coming down with the flu. All the reports are true, it is awful. I've spent the last couple of days crawling out of that hole, and am starting to feel almost human again.
Really, I think I spent about 96.776% of Monday inside a sleeping bag. It was my only comfort. I don't even think I actually slept, it was more a combo of weird hallucinations interspersed with annoying segments of full awakedness. I mainly remember my dad and Meego hogging Potato the computer from each other and battling it out...
But it does seem to be exiting as quickly as it entered, which is consolation, so I didn't get too far behind in anything. The cat's paw seems to also be on the mend, but between the two of us, this has felt like The Great Home of the Infirm.
Meego had a concert tonight, so I was glad to be back healthy for that. Although I would've enjoyed listening to the other groups, we only stayed for his portion because he had to come back to work on an English project. Damn that Shakespeare.
Yesterday, when we went out for said project supplies (you know those kinds where your kid is all, "I need to get this stuff for a school project", and you go, "Okay, when?", and he's all, "today") it turned into a bigger shopping trip because yesterday was also the first I'd heard of tonight's concert. *sigh*
But luckily, he did happen to mention it while we were out, because I had in the back of my mind that Meego needed new band shoes, so we got those too. Things turned strange, however, when he asked if we could also get some jeans.
He hasn't worn jeans since about 3rd grade when he declared his body off limits to denim.
But wait, he wasn't finished! We got home with the Shakespeare, shoes, and chaps (it's the only alliteration I could think of to include the jeans...) where he had yet another request: a haircut!
I'm starting to wonder if maybe I'm still flu-lucinating inside my sleeping bag.