A whole month, shot to hell....

Yes, I'm alive. But just barely. I've been sick for a week, and just haven't been in the mood to do much of anything, let alone write.

Today is my third day back at work after missing three days (two whole days and a half of two days, so that makes it three in my book) due to this cold I still haven't shaken. Thursday last week, I started feeling tired, ran a low grade fever, and started losing my voice. My throat hurt, was very scratchy, and my sinuses were plugged. Then the bronchitis kicked in. I spent four days in bed coughing up my lungs and spitting out huge, yellow loogies. Then the sneezing, watery eyes, and runny nose started. I wanted to cry, I felt so bad. But between the cough syrup, expectorant, and antihistamines, I managed to deal. I'm back to having my sinuses slammed shut and I'm still coughing up crud, but it's clear now, and I'm feeling markedly better, so I returned to work since I had to get the leases paid and the journal entries done before the end of the month. We have Monday and Tuesday off, so I plan on spending the weekend in bed with a thermos of hot toddies.

When I returned to work on Tuesday, I had a letter on my desk from my boss' boss, informing me that as of September 1st, I'm getting a raise of $100 per month. Not great, and not the reclassification of my job that my boss requested for me, but a merit raise is a merit raise. Herbie thinks I should just put the money in a savings account to save up for a new car, but I'm thinking I'll put the money directly on my credit card bills in order to pay them down faster, thus saving me more money in interest fees charges than I could make on interest gained by a savings account. In any case, it was a nice ego boost, as the letter mentioned just how great a worker I am! Yeah, I know, corporate b.s. "Atta Girl" notices are just paper. What counts is the green paper you get as a result.

On a different tangent, I had a grand time in Cisco visiting with my cousins. Weyland stayed in the pool almost the whole time we were there, and as a result, and despite many well-intentioned slatherings of sun block by me, he looked like a boiled lobster by Sunday. Brighid must have taken her one remaining brain cell out, played with it, and lost it because she accepted a cousin's dare: lick the tiles in the pool. I cannot fathom what she was thinking. Oh, wait! She wasn't! It was no surprise that she became ill an hour or so later with a fever and diarrhea. You know, I never suspected I'd have to tell a child, "don't lick the swimming pool tiles!" Live and learn.

My cousin Martha brought me the neatest thing from her dad's old printing shop: the hot type her dad set for my dad of my birth announcement. I didn't even know it existed, as I've never seen the finished product. I just bawled when I saw it, which made Martha bawl. It was just so emotional, seeing a tangible thing that represented the bond between our fathers. Both were printers, both ran linotype presses, and both were great with words. Odd how some gracefully formed bits of steel could bring about such a storm of feelings.

On the 4th, we're going to see the Cats play at La Greave field. Tickets were only $5 here at work, and there's going to be fireworks after (unless the severe drought we're in causes the powers that be to cancel them), and tailgate parties before. We're going to bring the de rigueur hot dogs, watermelon, and margaritas. There's nothing like sitting half baked at a baseball game. What's cool about seeing the Cats play is that all the seats are good since it's such a small venue. We're only 5 rows back, along the third baseline, so we should have a good view of anyone trying to make it to home plate.

The only other news of import is that Eric rolled the Cadillac Wednesday the 21st. He was leaving the Shamrock after meeting with a client when someone tried to come over into his lane without looking. So he swerved, hit the median, and rolled. He got a slight concussion, a laceration on his forehead, and lots of little cuts caused by the broken windshield. The cops took him to the hospital first, then to the Mansfield jail since Tarrant County was full.

I had my phone turned off since I was sick and didn't want to be bothered, so I didn't get the two calls Eric put in to me before getting ahold of Logan. Logan went and sprung him from jail, then spent the day chauffeuring Eric around, as his license had been temporarily suspended. It took a couple of days and a forged, notarized document for Eric to get the auto pound to let him get his laptop out of the trunk. The last time I spoke to Eric a couple of days ago, the car was still in the pound. It's in his dad's name, so they aren't releasing it to Eric, though they might let the insurance company haul it away.

Eric's parents are in the UK on vacation, so it may be a few more days until the shit hits the fan. In the meanwhile, Eric is staying close to home and pretty much incommunicado. How fun is that?