I thought I was feeling mostly ok upon return from the con, though both Myke and I are displaying those minor symptoms that we might have picked up a friendly germ. A friendly germ who is like “I hate being called Con Crud! It’s so… so… demeaning! I am simply that snot-inducing well loved germy gent that connects you to all your convention friends and reminds you sharing flasks and hugging so damn much has consequences!” Apparently he’d rather be called Egbert and swears he has the good taste to keep one pinky up as he’s infecting your very fine cup of tea. Lil germy bastard! That aside, as I was saying, I was feeling mostly alright.
I woke up in the middle of the night with a horrible stitch in my side. You know that normally my body’s woes like to identify themselves by name (the body Bethalynne does host some characters after all) but this stitch said his initials were F and U and he had quite the attitude on him. I got up for a little bit and took some ibuprofen and went back to bed. Felt almost well enough, though upon waking with Myke’s alarm clock I was whiny as ever. I dozed back off. Upon waking again not long afterwards (to the warm sounds of our landlord mowing the lawn) I found myself forced into the shape of a big-butted S: A Mau at my neck, a Ghost at the back of my knees, and a Gremlin snuggled up tight at my back. Upon attempting to sit up there was a comical sound of an exaggerated spring breaking somewhere in my body like a bed on its last legs. I was heard to say a few PG unfriendly words before shaking my fist at the ceiling. For some reason the ceiling is always where those things that need shaky fist-ees hover.
Now I sit here staring down my horrible lunch choice wondering if a small bowl of rainbow parfait has ever looked as delicious to me as it does now. I think this has a lot to do with the barren fridge I’m in no hurry to shop for and the fact that this silly parfait survived an entire convention untouched when it was supposed to be my “treat”. Years of old there was so, so much horrible food had a con, but times have changed (as has the size and structure of my tummy) so I have to reel it in a bit. Egbert is assuring me he won’t ruin my rainbow parfait moment. I’m not sure I trust him though. He swore to me an approaching sneeze would be a dry and boring ordeal and in no way indicated that I would actually be running through the house looking for a tissue to hide the horror from my eyes that decided to leave my system through a powerful awwww-choo!
Oh! Wait… mmm. Thank you Kroger. That was a very delicious bite of jello with the illusion of whipped cream in it. On that note… I have to get my shoppe’s backlogged orders caught up. Have a very splendid Egbert free day.