Sickly Pickly

Headache. Stuffy nose. Upset tummy. Sinus blockage. Raspy voice. Being sick stinks. I keep plugging away though, I don’t lay down and die when I’m sick. I want to. Maybe I should. I smell a challenge. Why don’t I do that? Nevermind. I don’t know; But I DO know when men are sick they all seem to act like big ass babies. Why do you guys, all grown and sexy, whine and cry like 8yo when your feeling under the weather? Sorry guys. Man-babies. It’s a fact, own it. Show me a man who doesn’t sob over his ailments and I’ll find you a unicorn. Us women though? NO, we can’t do that. We generally, don’t, do that. There are exceptions. Or we don’t let ourselves. Either way, stuff still has to operate. My body today is obviously in overdrive, trying to tell me that it’s tired and to lay down but that’s impossible. Still have to run errands. Trouble. Take my kid to school. Bummer. Do laundry. Paint in the neck. Wax the girly parts I own. Nuisance. Why won’t the hair just stop growing there. Pack for the next trip. Dammit, where are those pink fuzzy socks anyway?

Crap. My fate is sealed. And with my tissue box in tow, I’ll continue my quest for world domination. =)

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