Friday, May 11, 2007
I am so sick. Miserable. We're in the "coughing so hard I wet my pants" stage now. Last night Miss Thunderfoot was so worried about me she kept patting my hand every time I managed to fall asleep. (Thank you for your concern sweet kitty, but sleep is a GOOD thing....) I can't believe I have to drive to Rochester, a six-hour trip, tomorrow.
Calling Jay's eldest sister and telling her I have to cancel because I'm sick is simply NOT an option. Two of Jay's three sisters don't like me, I don't know why, and the third, the eldest, does at least think I was very good for Jay, but she has the kind of management personality that will not accept "no" as an answer for anything she wants, and she can get bitchy. She can be maddening.
So telling them I'm sick won't fly. I'll have to go and show them that I shouldn't be there but cared enough to make the effort.
A nice neat package of virus. Perfect gift for the father-in-law's 90th birthday. I'll stick a bow on my nose.
I'll go to the party at the church, and a backyard picnic, but I probably shouldn't go into his house.
I haven't been out of my house all week, so I haven't got a card or gift, either. I'll have to do that this evening, which means going across the river to the mall. Most of today has been spent waiting for the yearly visit from the furnace cleaning guy, and I'm already tired. I have NO ideas for a gift. What do you get a 90-year-old who has everything, can't see well, can't hear well, has no interests, no short-term memory, and flakes out by 4 pm every day anyway? He won't notice if I get him nothing, but the sisters will.
I want to "call in sick", and not just because of the cold.
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