Well, I thought yesterday evening the recovery train had pulled all the way into the station. Bob made crock pot rouladen. It was really good. And I was really hungry. At last.
Then, my fever returned last night. Not bad, but I’m officially sick of drinking Gatorade and tea, and I’m officially sick of being sick. While I did read most of the weekend (man, I haven’t done that forever), I’d like to do something else now. So, white blood cells: get back to work.
And memo to the coworker who took the entire box of tissues from the women’s restroom: Dude. Couldn’t you haven’t taken a few back to your desk like the rest of us were doing? And speaking of the rest of us. We’re forming a posse. If we find you and the hoarded tissue box, you’re in trouble.
Just sayin’.
Writing Wrongs 