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Feeling old today;
Like a typewriter ribbon.
frail and faded.
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I have a cold. Not a "Man Cold", but a genuine, knock-one-off-one's feet doozy of a chest infection. I think I'm over the worst of it, but I'm still congested as all hell and my head feels like it's been unscrewed and stuffed full of cotton wool, which itself has since become filled with mucus (thus accounting for the heaviness). Unfortunately there's more where that came from, as the two tissue boxes I've emptied in the last couple of days will attest.
I hate being sick. Partly because I hate the feeling of being sick, but more so because people assume that I'm not sick at all but just looking for some sympathy. I don't do that. I'll usually go to work unless I'm hurling or exhibiting a temperature higher than 102°F. In fact, I took two vacation days off last week to try and get over this affliction. And I'll show up at work regardless tomorrow - hope I'm not contagious, like my boss who I probably caught it from (Thanks, Susan! It's been neat!).
Speaking of health, I'm happy to report that Jess is up and around under her own steam again, and should be out of her convalescent internment in a week or so. She came home for lunch today, and when she's back for good I'll get her to write out our vaguely Japanese/Vietnamese miso noodle broth recipe which we enjoyed today, and to which I owe at least 30% of my better-feeling at this point, and post it to our nascent Pragmatic Kitchen blog (as yet, unsullied). It is a curative on the level of "Jewish Penicillin".
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