The sharpest weapon she has is her tongue. . . .

February 15, 2012




Thank you Pookie.


Your extended sojourn last week in your Man Cave has resulted, by means I simply cannot trace, my own body being invaded by viruses and germs.


To the point that I have actually had to cancel my once a week, three hour seminar class. 


With the understanding that this does NOT mean I'll be cancelling classes tomorrow.


But right now, my hair hurts.


My joints hurt. 


My throat has become a repository of mucus. 


I feel like Sheldon Cooper. 


Let's just hope I don't act like him. 


Hope being the operative word. 






The day will be one of bed, work, bed, work, eat, drink, bed, work.


A vicious cycle that makes me angry, frustrated, annoyed because it completely annihilates my much needed and carefully choreographed routine that keeps me, and those around me, sane. 


Em always states, most honestly, "Mum, when you're sick everything is screwed up."


Simple, yet elegant and not all that true. 






Wait until they hear that the three of them, alone, will be collecting Grandma from the airport Friday because I have two back-to-back meetings I cannot get out of.


That they, and they alone will be responsible for entertaining G-Ma (as Mer calls her) for the afternoon.


Ah, maturing, becoming adults.


The double edged sword. 






Title Lyric: Double Edged Sword by Horizontal Orange