Well, I'm not in a NyQuil daze exactly, but a fog brought upon by the supermarket generic brand that is two dollars cheaper and claims to be made of comparable ingredients. But that's hardly a good title. Foggy Notions, perhaps?
I have a terrible cold. All stuffiness and sore throat and sniffles and aches. The nasty licorice elixir allows for a few hours of light sleep in which I subconsciously try to find a way to hold my head that allows a bit of air to get in. My raw nose reminds me of environmental destruction by way of the Kleenex factory.
This convalescent environment is hardly helping. I stayed home from work to seek rest in a construction zone. Outside my window, roofers blare Faith Hill while shouting, banging, and providing a stench of tar foul enough to permeate through my stuffiness. My neighbor has decided to take inspiration from the construction team to begin his own home improvement, which consists of hammering and drilling at odd intervals (I also imagine, or hallucinate through the cold medicine, that I hear the occasional curse-filled shout of him hitting his thumb). The fire marshal has chosen this time to test the fire alarms on the building next door, adding random alarms to the already joyous cacophony that makes up my sick room.
My one silver lining? At least I got to miss Valentine's Day.
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3 comments:
Ugh, not fun (but no reason to be hatin' on the Valentine's Day). Hope you're feeling better and it's quieted down some around there.
The only day that I am into is Fristoll Johnson appreciation day down at the local Jerry Furniture and Table store. I get 15% off.
It sounds like the roofing extravaganza is a veritable free-for-all. Do you know what kind of equipment they are using? That would be interesting. There are lots of equipment makers out there that make me really nervous. The last thing you want is to fall through the roof because they didn't get the right mixture of tar slathered on the roof. I'm not making any definite claims here, but this is something that you don't skimp on.
In fact, I am too nervous to write anything else. I don't even want to think of fire marshalls or kleenex or elixirs. I need to go buy an occasional table. I've got a worn out credenza.
What is the difference between a credenza and a sideboard? Or is a credenza just a large desk? I don't have a good reference point because my furniture comes from IKEA and I put it together with allen wrenches and diagrammatic instructions. My furniture's names are all in make-believe Swedish, which sounds really cool, but is probably akin to those Chinese tattoos that people think mean "Strength" but really mean, "I'm an idiot". (and I don't mean that in the Johnny Damon, 'being an idiot is now a good thing' kind of way. Or maybe I do. I get confused.)
Can you believe there's no local IKEA? If the smell of tar and the incessant beeping and banging weren't enough, I have another reason to move--my furniture is wearing out and I cannot reasonably replace it...
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