Day Seven: Repeat Offender

Long time readers (or heck, people who have just been reading for a couple months) will not be surprised to read that I am sick. I know, play that violin... give me some cheese with my whine. But for reals. I've got the creeping crud that won't stop creeping. This time I'm sort of ticked off about it. I should not be sick! I don't drink and I don't smoke. I don't stay up late and I get eight hours of sleep (even with a baby and THAT is awesome). I eat somewhat healthy and at least three times a day, if not five. So what's the deal? I dress appropriately for the weather conditions and I'm a happy human. What the hell!?

The only thing I can come up with is that this is my lot in life. I just get sick; it's what I do. And every year around this time I will get very sick for the rest of my life. There is nothing I can do except just give in to the damn thing and ride it out complain on my blog until I feel better a couple times.

So there you have it. Riveting, I know. I'm off to get some more rest (yes, Zoe is with Cheryl - yesterday was exhausting).

I leave you with what I used to say (or sing) every night when I was a kid:

"Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite! See you later alligator... In a while crocodile. Goodnight. I love you."

EVERY single night, I said this. Anything to prolong going to bed, but now? Not so much with the wanting to prolong sleeping.


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