So last Friday J$ and I agreed to babysit for his sister’s two young kids, one of whom was ill. And, despite being 4 years old, unable to blow his own nose. Which meant that I had the lucky task of “assisting” him.
And now here I sit (lay) on day 3 of an awful cough-turned-head cold, wanting to die, unable to taste food and whining to poor J$ about how terrible I feel. That is one of the wonders of having a boyfriend. You get to act like an infant when sick. He’s been a great help, though. Today he ran to the store for Lola’s food and even brought me Cinnamon Toast Crunch as a treat. What a guy.
What do sick people do? I have read all the blogs (yes, each and every one on the internet), exhausted my DVR and hulu shows, and played everyone I know in Words With Friends. I have no desire to eat soup or drink hot tea. Or do chores. Someone please put me out of my misery.
Heather “I’m an actress” Dubrow is far to rich and classy to fall ill.
Oh, and if I have to miss work on Monday I am going to be royally PISSED. As I like to say “Calling off is for pussies.” Ever the lady.
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