Where did that phrase come from, anyway? “Sick as a dog.” What’s that supposed to mean? There’s nothing quite as sick as a sick dog? I beg to differ….
She’s been a little more lethargic than usual, and a little more cuddly. A little warmer than usual. And a little more cranky. She’s got Kitty Fever. So I’m loving that she’s letting me take care of her. My human child is too old for this kind of love and affection.
So Lizzie and I are going to just chill out today. I’ve been reduced to buying actual cough syrup at the store. I don’t do well with medications, so I’ve avoided this for a week. But I’m not getting any better so I finally got the store-brand knock-off of Robitussin DM. I’m already in the “I so don’t care about anything, even if I cough” state of mind. In another hour I’ll prob’ly be in bed. If we’re not asleep, we’ll be watching The West Wing on DVD. I’m halfway through Season Three. I love this show. I watch my DVD’s every winter.
Well, if you don’t hear from me for a few days, it’s because I’m either to sick to write; or too busy with my new camera and chocolate-making gadgets.
Oh, who am I kidding… I’ll be back tomorrow. I always am…
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!