Sunday, April 26, 2009
Journal of the plague week
Barely alive, I bravely scrawl these words (can't really scrawl dramatically on a blog can you? Annoying.) Anyway, my house is littered with the (near) corpses of my loved ones. Occasionally they lift their heads and ask pathetically for a bucket to throw up into or some ice chips to wet their poor, parched lips. Now that I am risen from my own plague bed, I'm tending the other victims like a grumpy Florence Nightingale. Because really, there is nothing worse than feeling like utter crap, but still having to take care of people who are worse off than you.
So, friends, if I make it through this alive, well, I'll return anon.