The Flu Descends . . . perhaps
DOB and I think--think--we may have come down at last with the dread disease that plagued his family for most of last month. It is difficult to tell, though, because our only symptoms is a general feeling of fatigue and achiness that descends after any minor exertion. According to report, the disease can take that minor form and never worsen if one takes it easy. If one does not take it easy, various extreme forms of congestion and even rashes may ensue. Therefore, it behooves everyone suspecting the disease to let the chores pile up, go into work late and come home early, and generally kick back.
Can you imagine a better illness?
The only downside is that we had to miss the YR party to watch the President's acceptance speech last night, on the grounds that we couldn't have stayed awake that long even if we had tried. This is the problem with living in the eastern time zone. On the west coast, all events of national significance happen before bedtime.
But we finished the first book of King Arthur. My favorite knight is Gawain; DOB's is Percival. Now I must reserve the remaining two in the series from the library.
We can't tell if D1 is sick or not. Since she's likely to sleep as much as she feels like, she will probably stay with the more mild form of the illness, too.
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