Resting, comfortably.....

It's raining...we so need the rain out here, so I'm thrilled. I'm double thrilled that it's raining, as I've pneumonia (how lovely to have some reason for being short of breath than Being Totally Out Of Shape!) and I'm supposed to be resting.

Resting comfortably, to be exact.

I was resting, I'll grant.

The comfortable piece? Less than ideal.

Pucker adores a good snooze as much as anyone does- under the covers, if you please, and thank you, for leaving a corner of the body pillow for me to put my nose on, right near your legs - she's all warm, toasty, throwing off lovely bits of heat.......waking me up when she sneezed. Right. On. My. Legs.

Not a gentle little sneeze either; a great whopping snot blowing sneeze. A sneeze so potent she broke wind at the same time.

That would be the part of her near my face.

It blew her tail up. I swear.

Thank God I can't smell anything (that would be the sinus infection I went for in the first place, totally annoyed they wouldn't simply send a z-pac script to the pharmacy - good thing I did go, the pneumonia thing would totally have screwed up the jaw surgical date if untreated) or I'd be resting, but Resting In Peace, Six Feet Under.

I did however, feel the breeze.

Not the cool one from the slightly open window.

The noxious hot one, the one so potent my eyeballs shrank. Before turning to stone.

I'm typing by rote, ps. Good thing they taught us that in the eighth grade. Otherwise, no one would know for sure that my idiot dog blinded me during the most luxurious morning I've allowed myself in years. (that could be weeks, but who's counting?!)

Since it's nearing two, I suppose it's quite bad form to pick up my son from the bus stop, seeing all the same parents this morning when I dropped him off, in the same jammies, only with slightly more fucked up hair.

And burn marks, from Fucker Up and Gas Me.

I must admit: I just adore the new Burberry glasses I picked out - I'd love to say they make me look intellectual in any given situation, allow me to pull off any outfit, at any time, with any hair - but.................they don't.

Not even Burberry is that talented.

However. In the good news department, they may well indeed be able to draw attention away from skin I'm sure is blistering right as I write, great welts amid bright red burn marks, I could be disfigured for life.

Hmmm. Upon closer inspection, now that the eyeballs are slowly returning to normal? I think those welts are pillow marks, that white stuff possibly drool (clearly not my own drool) so okay.

I can work with this.

I'll shower. Find Other Jammies That Look Like Real Clothing, let hair curl, slip on glasses -

better yet?

I'll drive down to the bus stop. Showered. I'll even get out to prove it, right as the bus pulls up, for maximum other parent notation that I'm not in the same jams as this am, and since it's raining, I will, finally, with the assistance of Burberry no less! rest comfortably until Fox's arrival.

Look at that. Me. The Ultimate Non-Compliant Patient. Being Compliant.

Resting. Comfortably.