As in the muggy heat wave hovering over the Rogue Valley and the virus that is making my mug feel like a helium balloon in the washer’s spin cycle. Fluids are pouring out my nose and my pores as fast as I pour them in. I think my vocabulary is hitching a ride. It feels as though my brain matter is a stew on simmer. My whole face is chapped--my nose by the cheep tissues and my forehead, cheeks and eyelids by my shirtsleeves as I try to sop up the sweat before it pools in my eyes or ears.
I'm sure that is TMI*, as my nephew is so fond of saying when he's grossed out by something.
I’m supposed to sit with Grandma again this afternoon. Nobody has suggested that I shouldn’t for fear of exposing her to my cold. It’s probably too late for that anyway as my sore throat started Friday and I spent an hour over there that afternoon. Plus my mother-in-law has it too and has been over there more than I have in the past week. We both got it from my husband who brought it home from work. He works on the shipping docks of a major mail-order company so he is frequently bringing home bugs picked up from co-workers and truckers. His mom works the coffee-bar at a motel so she is often the one bringing it home to pass around.
Anyway. The races were not held Saturday because of the big-deal race they are holding Monday night instead. Everyone--my husband and both his parents--are excited and I don’t have the heart to disappoint them by wimping out over a silly cold. And at least we get to use the cooler all day at Grandma’s because of her susceptibility to bad effects from the heat. We have one here but my mother-in-law waits until it is well over ninety in the house before she turns it on.
*TMI=Too Much Information