This morning I woke up with a wicked sore throat. I should have known it was coming... I'd been feeling tired and slept in WAY late on my day off on Friday... and I've been caring for a ton of Group A Strep folks in the ER. Sure enough, I have redness and a few little white patches in the back of my throat. And of course, my doctor's office isn't open on weekends. Lovely. Looks like I'll be suffering through until Monday when I can get over there and get a prescription for penicillin.
So I crawled out of bed and went to pour myself a glass of orange juice. A wasp landed on my foot and stung me, making me scream like a wuss and drop the carton of OJ to spill all over the floor. Wasps are getting into our kitchen somehow, and we have yet to find their entry point. It's been an on-going war, but one that we'd been winning up until this morning. I hope the little bastard thought it was worth it, because I crushed him GOOD after that.
So I can't taste anything, I can't talk, and my big toe is swollen and red and painful to walk on. If ever there was a day to lie in bed and read A Dance With Dragons, today is that day.
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