Hello, my 4.7. How are you this evening?
I am much improved. Thank you for your concern. Your cards and letters all helped me along the path to better health. I am so grateful to have you as my friends.
I haven't written much the last few days. As you know, my ghost writers are all gone, so it falls to me; and when I am sick, there is not much I can do.
A guy at work had a bad cold. We talked on Thursday morning. By the afternoon, I began to feel the symptoms. By the time I got home at 6:30, it was all I could do to go to bed.
I was even worse on Good Friday. Just watching a simple tv show exhausted me, so I ended up most sleeping in my La-Z-boy, with Newbie on my lap. He knows when his daddy is sick, and stays with me during those times. Sweet, really.
I barely ate anything on Friday. I ate somewhat more on Saturday. I have been a comparative chowhound today.
Here I am, the 3rd day of a long weekend, and have nothing to show for it except an excessive amount of sleep and a desire to breath on the guy at work who gave me this cold, the next time I have a cold and he doesn't.
As it stands, I have the coming week off on vacation. I don't return to work until the 28th. There are many plans afoot for us this week involving Spring cleaning and the like. Patricia's ocular prosthetic needs to be cleaned, which requires a day trip to Dartmouth, a.k.a. the butthole of Nova Scotia. Dartmouth is to Nova Scotia as grape juice is to wine. People live in Dartmouth because they don't know any better. You get my drift. People in Dartmouth will read these words and gnash their little teeth and smash their fists on their keyboards in an effort to respond to my comments, before they spend an hour trying to find out where the send button is. A little sad, really, but it's better than the times when they would type something on their monitors, and then mail the monitors to me thinking that the messages would still be there when I got them. Ha ha. Silly Dartmouthians.
Anyway, Monday promises to be a fairly busy day. I am hoping to be up to doing some of that stuff. So, remind me to tell you about how my second kindle in a row is off to the boneyard. Am I abusive to these things? No. No, I am not. They are just wussified devices is all.
See you tomorrow.