Yeah, I'm not going to make it in today

Chicken soup to the left and a television remote on the right. VH1's "Confessions of a Teen Idol" on the tube. Sick days aren't all bad. Sure, my head is filled with a substance that refuses to evacuate and I'm slightly feverish, but hey! I'm not working. I was expected to be there by 1:00 p.m. However, that ain't hap'nin'. Me thinks having a fever is a good excuse regardless of my co-worker laying a guilt trip on me for doing the world a favor by not passing out on the premises or puking on Mr. Jones' bi-focals.

I have no idea when chicken soup first made an appearance on this earth, but good googily goo! I swear by it when I have a head full of snot and a tummy that's churning as if it's about to regurgitate the contents of hell. I'm sure I'd do just as well with chicken broth alone, but this is a comfort that takes me back to mom and dad spending a little extra dough to buy their little girl Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup at the neighborhood grocer.

Sick days always make me nostalgic. For one, I long to have someone take care of me. It totally sucks having to make my own soup or attempt to hold back my hair when I'm face down in the commode. Even my hair follicles ache. So, a pony tail is not feasible.

Now that Mancub is older, I send him to our neighborhood grocer to pick up chicken noodle soup and ginger ale. He's willing because I always let him buy a treat for himself just as my parents did when they sent me to the store as a kid. He's even sweet enough to cook the soup and isn't reluctant to wake me while napping to ask if I'm doing alright.

Today he is in school. What kind of mom would I be to jeopardize my son's perfect attendance for my own needs? So, in my dizzyfied state, I drove a block to get the necessary items for my get well kit. Don't give me "go green" crap. It's drizzling and cold. I was already chilled to the bone in my weakened state. I couldn't risk passing out in front of the Nazarene church. In this town, I do NOT want mouth to mouth from anyone. Egads! To justify driving, I made a detour to the Post Office to mail my gas bill. It's an additional block from the house. I may be sick, but I'm still relatively responsible.

Upon my return from my brave journey to wellness, I changed into clean pajamas and turned on the television. I scanned the guide and that's where I found "Confessions ...." I know I'm feeling nostalgic and under the weather, but did the finale really deserve the shedding of tears?? Not those of Christopher Atkins or Billy Hufsey or Adrian Zmed. MINE!

Clearly I'm sicker than I first thought. This might require a dose of NyQuil. Then again, I usually have wackadoodle dreams while under the influence of the the night time sniffling, sneezing,coughing, aching, stuffy head,fever so you can rest medicine. With consideration to the program I was just watching, that could make for some dream cross-referencing that may be even too weird for this blog. Be ascared. Be very, very ascared!