Ok chickadees, we made it safely past Monday.
And now we’re onto a nearly-mid-September day that promises to be nearly 100 here in the Second City.
Where was this when I was headed to the beach last month?
Not cool, you guys.
In addition, I woke up this morning with the sneaking suspicion that I am losing the battle I’m waging against a summer cold.
The office is just about as lethal as a daycare, I’m assuming, and I’ve literally watched this virus make its way around cubicle-land.
Water, vitamin C, and plenty of sleep are the only defenses I’ve got.
And they seem to be doing a lousy job.
I forced myself into bells last night, thinking that perhaps I could sweat it out of me, but that proved to be another useless move.
Now I’ve got a set of sore shoulders though, so at least I got something out of it, right?
In any case, while I slog through a sore throat and runny nose, I’ve also got a stop to make with my RA doc today, who seems to have noticed I forgot to make a check-in appointment, and thus, just took the liberty of scheduling it herself.
She’s sneaky, you guys, but I guess that’s a good sign.
In any case, this means I will now spend the late morning being poked, prodded, and having approximately one ton of blood drawn in an effort to figure out just why my RA doesn’t show up in my blood tests.
I wonder if at some point we can just settle on “who really cares” on my medical chart, and I can go about my business.
Something tells me that’s not how this works though.
And with that, I’m off. Enjoy this one, chickens!