sniffle sniffle achoooo....

It's that time of year.
The time of year when work is busy because it's national nursing home week next week and I have to stay home because I'm sick.
Not just a little.
The kind that makes you commandeer kleenex boxes from other parts of the house, leaving you
stuffed up and croaking on the couch. Eight gazillion milligrams of Amoxicillin notwithstanding,
I am pathology's toy.
It's nice outside. Everyone is cheerful - students' finals are over.
I scowl. My throat, as I told my doctor, feels like Olympic figure skaters have been practicing figure eight's on it. My nose is so runny it should try for the Boston Marathon. I've been sneezing gale force winds that my account for the early hurricane scare this season, and my chest feels like someone heated up a scratchy doormat and placed it gently on my bronchial tubes.
Blogging - another way to whine about being sick.
In the midst of this, I've been reading (hard to concentrate), pushing the fluids (why is it so hot in here?) and throwing away large mounds of kleenex that I think European backpackers are trying, at this moment, to scale. Nyquil helped me finally sleep last night, but now it is day, and I am still sick.
With tissue paper stained glass windows to make for our "church at Rome" segment on our "stop in Italy" for our weeklong "cruise" which is the theme of our national nursing home week celebration. With blue posterboard souvenir passport covers to craft in preparation for tomorrow's passport activity in readiness for National Nursing Home Week. With thoughts of wondering when we're going to get the lifejackets and anchors up to decorate the halls, and yes,
with lots of Mary Kay on my brain (more on that later),
I am sick.
Oh, by the way, I am now an Independent Beauty Consultant for Mary Kay. More later, except to say that I shall publish a manifesto entitled "Why I'm joining Mary Kay" because when you're a woman studying theology people tell you you shouldn't, and when you're a theologian who enjoys trying new eyeshadow, people tell you you've sold out. I should reply, soon, yes, but I'll get you some as soon as it comes in. Luckily I am comfortable enough in my own skin to, as I've had to defend several times, enjoy both Luther's theology of death and dying, and different shades of lip liner.
More on that later.
Must go blow nose.