I was SO excited this year because my wedding anniversary and birthday butted right up to the long Labor Day weekend. I asked for Thursday, the 3rd (anniversary), and Friday, the 4th (birthday) off, which meant I would have five luxurious days of freedom to myself.
Upon leaving work on Wednesday, my eyes were already itchy, my head hurt, my cough had started, and I was sneezing continually. Thursday was manageable. It also happened to be my mother’s 65th birthday party that evening (yeah, we like to really bunch together special events in our household). She had hired a classical guitarist to come to her home and perform a concert. Through muffled coughing fits, I was able to enjoy the evening. For those of you that know my mother, she was true to herself all evening and had a ball. She even managed to take some great verbal “jabs” at the musician that made everyone roll with laughter (Arby’s anyone?) Prior to showing up at the party, Scott and I went to Redstone to celebrate our four years of wedded bliss (truly, it has been blissful!)
However, Friday, my birthday, the illness hit with newfound vengeance. In fact, I felt so poor in the morning that I made a last minute appt. with my doctor. She proscribed some tough cough medicine and antibiotics. We spent my birthday evening hunkered down in the basement watching stupid TV movies, and eating Thahn Do takeout, the only redeeming part of the evening.
Hmm, maybe I could write a new lyric for Alanis Morissette’s song, “Isn’t It Ironic.”
