Still In Health Limbo

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My body apparently can't decide if it wants to be sick or night. Mornings and evenings are unpleasant (except for the sexy raspy voice I've been rockin'), days are pretty good. 

What's not helping is Blair's reaction to my possible sickness. The very model of love, support and encouragement in every other situation, Blair turns into a jumpy house cat at the thought of being sick. To wit: We had just gone to bed Thursday night and turned off the light. I'd mentioned that I wasn't feeling well.

Me: "Goodnight. I (cough, cough) lov--"

Blair: "Oh my God. Are you going to cough like that all night?"

Me (strangling back another cough): "No. I just--"

Blair: "I can't be sick." 

Me: "Do you want me to sleep upstairs?" (Tiniest little cough slips out.)

Blair: "Aaaugh! You're coughing right in my face! Stop it! Are you trying to make me sick? I can't be sick."

Me: "Why don't I sleep upstairs?"

Silence from Blair.

Me: "Do you want me to go?" More coughing. I can't help it.

Blair leaps from the bed. "I'll go up." He grabs his pillow and heads upstairs.

"You suck," I call out.

"I can't be sick!" he calls back.

Oh, the romance. ;)

Cheers,

Dena 

Health or The Real Housewives? Decisions, Decisions...

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So I may be getting sick. I've got that almost-but-not-quite-fully-developed itchy throat, coughing, stuffy head thing going on. It's at the critical turning point where more then likely I will wake up tomorrow with either a full-blown head cold or it will have gone away. 

The thing is, I know my body and I have some control over which direction this goes. In the last 6 years (which is exactly when I started running), I've been sick for perhaps three days.  Caught a cold a year or two ago and it took me down. Other than that, I've been at where I am now... almost sick but never really crossing the line. The difference--and I know it sounds odd--is that I can make the mental decision whether to allow myself to be sick or not and my body almost always follows suit. 

The trick of it is...

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Smug Marrieds: Fishsticks? Really??

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Today we've had the pleasure of hosting dear, dear friends of ours who used to live in Greensboro but abandoned us over 13 years ago to live in Connecticut. They were in town for a wedding and came to spend the night with us. We've been eagerly anticipating their visit for a month and spent the better part of the weekend getting the house in order--cleaning, stocking the fridge with food and wine, admonishing the cats to be on their best behavior, etc. 

They weren't arriving until this afternoon so I went to my morning workout class as usual. When I walked into the house, I froze. No. He didn't. He wouldn't have. 

"Blair?" I called. I walked down the hall and found him sitting in our breakfast room, eating lunch. "What did you make? What is that smell?"

"Fishsticks," he said, munching on one while holding another out to me. "Want one?"

"The entire house smells like fish," I said. 

"Mmmm," said Blair, cutting into another fishstick. 

"Why not just fry up some bacon while you're at it?" I asked. "The house reeks."

"You exaggerate," said Blair.

"Walk out and walk back in and tell me I'm exaggerating--never mind," I said, as he started to get up from the table. "Just go grab the scented candles. All of them." 

Fortunately, we were able to rid our home of the eau de fish smell well before our guests arrive. 

Why? Why do they do that??

Cheers,

Dena