It is getting into my Bones.

I woke with a sore back and terrible, aching hips.  I’m too young to feel this old.  I didn’t like it.  I didn’t like the dark.  Well, I love the dark unless I’m being forced to get up in the morning. 

Okay, there is a point to this.  I was going to make it nice and interesting so you really got the picture of this morning.  But I’m skipping past all the writing parts to the end result.

I think I’m coming down with a nasty headcold and I feel like dog shit, something the cat dragged in, a zombie, death warmed over (which may be a zombie, I’m not sure) and like I was hit by a steam roller.  Whichever phrase is most often used in your neck of the woods.  I gave up halfway through yesterday’s blog entry as well.  I don’t predict to be up to any writing tomorrow either.  In fact, if I had some sick time or vacation time left, I wouldn’t be here today or tomorrow.  But I’m clean out and they won’t let us make up time anymore.


2 Responses to “It is getting into my Bones.”

  1. Yep, know that feeling! I take it this is what inspired the soup?

    • Totally. When I start to feel that way, I make some kind of soup that is heavy on onion, garlic and cayenne. I work with whatever else happens to be in the house at the time.

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