![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Mostly I've Been Sick
Jan. 6th, 2014 09:09 amI thought that I'd missed the horrible coughing thing that Mason had over Christmas break (we even ended up taking him to the doctor's on Christmas eve day because we worried he might have strep.) But, alas, no. I've been feeling pretty miserable these last four or five days and I LOST MY VOICE.
Perhaps you have no idea what a tragedy this is for me, but I can't talk! Me! Who loves the sound of her own voice so much that I've been known to carry on conversations with myself when I'm alone in the house!
Actually, I can talk, just not very well. On Friday when I went to my library job despite feeling crappy I sounded like a deranged mouse. They sent me home early because I really couldn't work the front service desk squawking and squeaking. Now that the cold/laryngitis has progressed I sound a bit more like a growling bear. So I guess it's improvement that I've moved up the food chain. :-)
I used to kind of enjoy losing my voice because, in the past, I'd hit a stage where I sounded like some kind of sultry drag queen or jaded phone sex operator. But, I guess that just cements the fact that I'm an odd duck, because I used to love to just say strange things out loud to crack myself up or call up Shawn's work and croon sweet nothings into the phone in a scratchy voice. Alas, if I tried that now it'd sound more like, "bark, snarl, growl!" and not much else intelligible.
I suppose I ought to mention the weather. Apparently, outside my door right now, it's -20 degrees F/-28 degrees C. I could guess it was cold because there's so much frost on the INSIDE of our windows, it's not even funny. I could hardly see out this morning before the sun came up and melted things a bit through sheer force of will. -20 F.... that's probably the coldest I've seen things, ever, because I don't believe that temperature includes windchill, which I'd heard on the radio might be as low as -60 F/-51 C, which frankly is f*cking arctic.
The governor closed schools in advance, which, in my opinion, should be his re-election platform for next year. "Remember that stupid cold day? I didn't make you go out in it. Vote for me!" except I think Dayton might be on his last term, which is also a shame because he's possibly one of my favorite governors. I like him not for political reasons (though his are pretty good), but because he's the single most depressed puppy on the planet. It's like having that sad dog from Looney Tunes (Droopy Dog?) as your governor. When Mason and I went to see him announce the passing of marriage equality, he gave a short speech that was like this: murmuring in a kind of wet blanket voice.... any pause at all in monotone, and WILD cheering and squeeing from fabulous gay people... more monotone.... At that moment, I thought, "I love you, Governor Dayton. For so many reasons." Plus, he's actually been upfront about the fact that he does/or has, in point of fact, suffered from depression. He also adopted a puppy at one point and when we drive past the Governor's mansion on the way to Shawn's work every day, I always look for the sign that says "SLOW DOG AT PLAY." Which is, of course, meant to be read, "Slow. Dog at play." And it is, in point of fact, interrupted with a picture of a dog, but it has no official punctuation, so I've started waving to the mansion and saying, "Good morning, Slow Dog."
Right, okay, it's probably time to brew another pot of coffee and hunker down under cats and blankets.
Perhaps you have no idea what a tragedy this is for me, but I can't talk! Me! Who loves the sound of her own voice so much that I've been known to carry on conversations with myself when I'm alone in the house!
Actually, I can talk, just not very well. On Friday when I went to my library job despite feeling crappy I sounded like a deranged mouse. They sent me home early because I really couldn't work the front service desk squawking and squeaking. Now that the cold/laryngitis has progressed I sound a bit more like a growling bear. So I guess it's improvement that I've moved up the food chain. :-)
I used to kind of enjoy losing my voice because, in the past, I'd hit a stage where I sounded like some kind of sultry drag queen or jaded phone sex operator. But, I guess that just cements the fact that I'm an odd duck, because I used to love to just say strange things out loud to crack myself up or call up Shawn's work and croon sweet nothings into the phone in a scratchy voice. Alas, if I tried that now it'd sound more like, "bark, snarl, growl!" and not much else intelligible.
I suppose I ought to mention the weather. Apparently, outside my door right now, it's -20 degrees F/-28 degrees C. I could guess it was cold because there's so much frost on the INSIDE of our windows, it's not even funny. I could hardly see out this morning before the sun came up and melted things a bit through sheer force of will. -20 F.... that's probably the coldest I've seen things, ever, because I don't believe that temperature includes windchill, which I'd heard on the radio might be as low as -60 F/-51 C, which frankly is f*cking arctic.
The governor closed schools in advance, which, in my opinion, should be his re-election platform for next year. "Remember that stupid cold day? I didn't make you go out in it. Vote for me!" except I think Dayton might be on his last term, which is also a shame because he's possibly one of my favorite governors. I like him not for political reasons (though his are pretty good), but because he's the single most depressed puppy on the planet. It's like having that sad dog from Looney Tunes (Droopy Dog?) as your governor. When Mason and I went to see him announce the passing of marriage equality, he gave a short speech that was like this: murmuring in a kind of wet blanket voice.... any pause at all in monotone, and WILD cheering and squeeing from fabulous gay people... more monotone.... At that moment, I thought, "I love you, Governor Dayton. For so many reasons." Plus, he's actually been upfront about the fact that he does/or has, in point of fact, suffered from depression. He also adopted a puppy at one point and when we drive past the Governor's mansion on the way to Shawn's work every day, I always look for the sign that says "SLOW DOG AT PLAY." Which is, of course, meant to be read, "Slow. Dog at play." And it is, in point of fact, interrupted with a picture of a dog, but it has no official punctuation, so I've started waving to the mansion and saying, "Good morning, Slow Dog."
Right, okay, it's probably time to brew another pot of coffee and hunker down under cats and blankets.