Just one word - to sum up your day. This one word acts as the theme of sorts, a platform from which other words will follow.
It's a part of NaBloPoMo, if you'd like you can visit NaBloPoMo at: http://www.nablopomo.com/?xg_source=msg_mes_network
Feel inspired? Then get to it and write.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Blog it: Little Princes
Blog it: Little Princes: "Yesterday I finished reading Little Princes, a book I learned about on The Nate Show. Two years ago, Charlie and I were approached by a man..."
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
When Is Enough, Enough?
About three weeks ago, I responsibly decided - after the peer pressure of my family - to snort up a near dead strain of the flu. Within a few days I full-on had the flu, which lasted for a week and was basically an obnoxious head cold aggravated by the fact that taking cold medicine may bring on a flash migraine, which is a redundant way to describe a migraine seeing as freight train is really their only speed.
Then about a week later - give or take a few days - I came down with another fabulous new form of the flu which incapacitates you so entirely you become a slave to the bathroom - one pot beneath you and one sitting squarely in your lap. This then lasts for about 12 hours before you entirely lose your appetite for 24 hours, followed by a feverish 48 hours set to about 101 degrees - just a little hatha - esque.
But then you get to thinking, 'Hey, I must be feeling better.' And you seem to be on the mend.
Until...
You cough.
Then you cough a bit more.
Then you realize the noise purring you to sleep at night is you. Your body has become an orchestra of instruments, wind I guess. In, one noise. Out, another. Varying degrees of sounds all depending on the position of your instrument and, of course, if your mouth is open or closed.
Your musical talent is accompanied by another few feverish days where you wait for the doctor's office to confirm that you are in fact - sick.
With what? Pneumonia, of course. With this stomach crunching antibiotic threathening to send me back to those bathroom days of yore.
Can you see my little white flag flying?
Then about a week later - give or take a few days - I came down with another fabulous new form of the flu which incapacitates you so entirely you become a slave to the bathroom - one pot beneath you and one sitting squarely in your lap. This then lasts for about 12 hours before you entirely lose your appetite for 24 hours, followed by a feverish 48 hours set to about 101 degrees - just a little hatha - esque.
But then you get to thinking, 'Hey, I must be feeling better.' And you seem to be on the mend.
Until...
You cough.
Then you cough a bit more.
Then you realize the noise purring you to sleep at night is you. Your body has become an orchestra of instruments, wind I guess. In, one noise. Out, another. Varying degrees of sounds all depending on the position of your instrument and, of course, if your mouth is open or closed.
Your musical talent is accompanied by another few feverish days where you wait for the doctor's office to confirm that you are in fact - sick.
With what? Pneumonia, of course. With this stomach crunching antibiotic threathening to send me back to those bathroom days of yore.
Can you see my little white flag flying?
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