July 15, 1999
Dear Everyone:
I can sum this week’s Letter up in two words:
I’m sick.
On Tuesday, I awoke with that vague feeling in the
back of the throat that sometimes is the precursor to a cold.
I had hoped that a precursor was all it was, but alas, it was not
to be. Or rather, it was to
be: A Cold.
I went to bed Tuesday night hoping that it would all be over by
morning.
Instead, at 1:30 Wednesday morning, I was pawing
through the supply closet. I
managed to unearth some very old, sorry-looking throat lozenges and a
box of cold remedy that, alas, had expired in December of 1997.
Later, I ran across a bottle of another cold remedy which had
expired in August of 1997.
This gives us a pretty good idea of when was the last time I came down
with a cold.
Being out of practice with being sick, I went to
work anyway. My co-workers
assured me that I did indeed look even worse than I felt.
They kept cringing away from me and shouting, “Go home!” which,
eventually, I did. I’m
staying home today, but will have to go into the office at least for a
while on Friday since my usual partner-in-crime, “Wilbur”, is out on
vacation this week.
Just a few, end-of-the-week things that need to be
taken care of, then to the dentist for the night guard that’s supposed
to take care of my
TMJ.
Many thanks to the various people who sent me letters and/or
email to assure me that I’m not the only person in the world to get this
and it will either clear up in no time or last forever, depending on who
you listen to.
“Jeannie” and I did manage to see a movie this
week.
Rupert Everett
was born to do Oscar
Wilde.
An Ideal
Husband. Go, you’ll
like it. And the theater is
air-conditioned.
I now have a box of cold remedy that won’t expire
until February of 2001, which, hopefully, is an indication of how long
it will be before I catch another cold.
Love, as always,
Pete
| Previous | Next |