I managed to pick up a pretty decent illness a good week or more before Thanksgiving. It wasn't until Nov. 28 when I actually made it to the doctors office. The doctor and I made an interesting discovery. I had walking pneumonia!
Happily, I've got three days worth of pain reliever and antibiotics in me and am beginning to feel more like my old self again.
However, during the three worse days, I spent many, many hours in my bed coming up with good jokes and deep philosophical ponderings, as well as having many weird, bizarre dreams.
I will spare you the weird, bizarre dreams. I don't want to give my readers nightmares. I've been told by two sources that the jokes aren't that good. So that leaves us with the deep philosophical ponderings. Here are some that came to mind:
How is it that I develop more earwax when I'm sick than when I am well?
How is it that my 14 year old son can find a small piece of hidden candy within seconds, yet be unable to locate the shoes he took off minutes ago?
How is it that my wife is always right and I am always wrong?
How is it that there are no apples in the jar labeled 'apple jelly' in my refrigerator?
How is it that pain experienced increases proportionately the closer it gets to bed time?
How is it that a brainless machine, aka, my car, knows when will be the worst time to break down and does?
How is it that the best tasting things are generally the worst in regards to your health?
How is it that the hole in your pants pocket is always in the pocket in which you keep your loose change?
How is it that the distance it takes to go on vacation is longer than the distance it takes to come back home?
How is it that you can wear a hole in only one sock of a matching pair?
How is it that the holes in your jeans gravitate from the knees to the butt as you get older?
How is it that people seem to think if you have multiple dogs, taking on one more is really no big deal?
fuzzy, black dogs
The original three fuzzy, black dogs -- Bob, Ace and Lilly.
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