gone

They're all headed back to their homes in Utah, and Dad is back on travel. I never want to eat again. It will be nice to have my room to myself, now that 'Stacia can return to her own domain. I was running out of floor space to throw my clothes onto.

We did have a lovely weekend, although it was marred somewhat by sickness. (Effect's diabetes has been acting up.) I've missed jiu jitsu this week, which has given my bruises an opportunity to heal, but has also put me in a questionable temper. We are three weeks away from the big Wedding, and the diet is going exactly as expected. ("Diet? What is this strange, how you say, diet?") Work is much more fun, now I'm no longer quite so feeble, but the weather has turned, and I am likely to freeze to death when I try to leave the house tomorrow.

I miss Alden and fam. We talked yesterday by computer, and I noticed that version 2.1.3 is getting big and has a winning smile. 2.1.1 and 2.1.2 were wonderful as well. I am checking fares . . . .

thanks

The family has gathered. The pumpkin pies are baking. The Happy Birthday streamers are still hanging from the chandelier--a family tradition of sorts, thanks to Jonathan. I'm considering building a fire, although that might require going outside into the cold. It's a degree below freezing.

Poor Ves is sick, so she may have toast for Thanksgiving dinner. I probably ought to as well--we got the bridesmaids' dresses yesterday, and there's nothing like a major formal event in the near future to make me resolve to lose a few pounds. It's a bad day for a diet, but since my diets are usually imaginary anyway, I don't think that should stop me.

hmm

My doctor offered me prescription narcotics for my sore throat yesterday.

updates

Yeah, how about I just tell you guys if I ever get well. The constant "I'm sick" report is wearing thin of interest, even for me.

pensive

I wish I were thinking about something deep, but I'm not. I've become addicted to Sudoku, which is a lot like a crossword puzzle but less annoying. And it is taking up way too much time, when I should be writing. (Or working.) (Or doing the dishes, which were left for me when Mom went to Santa Fe this morning.) I have an interview at eleven, so I should--alas--probably go get showered and dressed, instead of sitting around with my Diet Coke and my fuzzy slippers.

happy birthday, ves!

Yes, it's that day again: when the blonde sister chalks up another year in the old mortal coil, when she gets hugs and presents from local family and virtual hugs and really bad renditions of "Happy Birthday" from family abroad. (Abroad = not there.) I remember when little Vessie was born, a really tiny wispy thing whose intense gaze was the only thing that seemed to keep her from fading away like mist in the morning. She had a pair of lungs on her, too, that one. Hasn't changed.

See you in exactly a week, kidling!

dead and dying

The plague continues. I am afraid I have bronchitis, but that's frankly just my hypochondriac tendencies peeping out. I have graduated from head cold to chest cold. There are disadvantages to each state, but the chronic weakness plus the hoarse voice are a bad combination. This makes interviewing people difficult. They look at you like you have something catching (ya think?) and are generally anxious to get rid of you. I do have to start working again one of these days, though. If I could just manage to make it to my post office box and back without feeling like I was about to collapse . . .

Whining over with, everything else around here is just ducky. I am learning how to play a complicated WWII board game. 'Stacia is learning with me, more or less out of the kindness of her heart. The siblings are beginning to call me Sophie, because they've taken to sitting on me when I'm lying on the couch, and I don't kick them off. (I'm generally too cold. Those little suckers are like space heaters.) I finally got my fax machine/copier/printer combo, and I'm in no mood to appreciate it.

It really hurts to cough.

I will observe, though, that we are 100% happier than in the Great Influenza of 2005 (Feb), in which I was too weak to walk from my bed to the kitchen for Cheerios without stopping twice to sit on the floor and rest. That was scary. This is just annoying. And it thoughtfully waited until I had health insurance again before popping up.

never mind

The plague is back. I am sicker than I was last week, and all this is getting old. I can't sleep, because I wake up 45 minutes later in cold sweats. I can't talk, because my throat feels like sandpaper. I can't do jiu-jitsu, for obvious reasons, and therefore have to suffer the ignominy of being the loser for another four days (no opportunity to get my revenge.)

And to all this is added the fact that I managed to make Mom sick, as well. While there's a great deal to be said for being in the bosom of the family, this is a serious problem. And now I feel guilty as well as feverish.

i survived

Well, it's been a long week, but now I'm back to my bouncy self. (Feel free to snicker, folks. But bouncy it is this week.) I'm blowing off work this afternoon, as I have writing to do. Writing. Writing writing writing. Feels good to say it.

plague house

Everyone around here is sick, and I think that number is beginning to include me. I'm feeling distinctly unwilling to stand/sit/think/type/talk/work. I want a nap.

For those of you who were concerned, nothing blew up on Halloween, at least to my knowledge. Frantic brought back a bag of loot that he has generously offered to share with me. I dressed up as a blue belt in jiu-jitsu and went to class, where I was thoroughly beaten. (Lots of fun.)

Nothing else to report, I regret to say. I will doubtless think of something later. And if not, I will blather here all the same.