I am finally beginning to feel like I might just live, after all.
The elephant sitting on my chest has lost some weight and I am finally able to take a deep breath without coughing. I would dearly love for the feeling of drowning to pass, and, once that finally happens, I should be good to go, which; will happen just in the nick of time since The Teenager and I leave for Denver on Friday.
In the meantime, I have a ton of chores to catch up on at home. The poor house hasn't seen a vacuuming in almost two weeks and pet-hair tumbleweeds have taken up residence in almost every corner. Inch-thick dust coats every surface of the furniture and I'm not even brave enough to venture into the crisper drawer of the refrigerator without donning some sort of bio hazard suit.
It's not going to be pretty.
I would totally pull a Scarlett O'Hara and simply not worry about it until tomorrow, but, yeah, my parents arrive in Petticoat Junction tomorrow and I can't have them thinking they raised a slob, so, it looks like a cleaning spree tonight, following an organizing spree at the hardware store, because; I can't have my in-laws thinking my parents raised an office-slob, either.
Have I mentioned that the plague picked a really unfortunate time to hit? Yes? Well, it bears repeating.