For the past two days, I have been sick. SICK. This is ironic because I’ve had my H1N1 shot and my flu shot and that little bit of heroin (just a pick me up!) and still. For the past two days, I’ve lived in my sad den of illness with just Robitussin, tea, and all the Real Simple magazines that I haven’t read this year. I wish they wouldn’t use such big words in that magazine, because it’s not called Real Simple If You Have an Extensive Vocabulary and Never Watched Judge Judy.
I had my doctor’s appointment on Tuesday and everything checked out for 24 weeks. My doctor’s only comment was that my weight gain is “a little fast.” Well, of course I’m a little fast. Gifted and Talented Class say what! I was surprised that I didn’t weigh more, with all the pork belly milkshakes I’ve been downing. Next up: the whole pig!
I asked her about my cold because that mask? You have to wear it in the doctor’s office if you have the following, with or without fever: cough, sore throat, and nasal congestion. That’s me, me and me! Those masks are so difficult because my glasses start steaming up and I feel like the worst ninja ever. She said if I do get a fever or have trouble breathing, that I should be on alert. So far I’ve been okay, just going through a sexy bout of rampant tissue use, tea-drinking and telling my husband that I’m about to pop off, son if no one rubs my head and calls me, “Poor little bunny.”
It’s the worst time to lose my voice because tonight is my comedy explosion at the Comedy Underground. Are you going? Can you laugh out of sympathy for me? I usually have this guy below planted in the audience, but tonight he’s not going to be there. He’s too busy telling people that he’s a cool dude.