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The 23 Psa*coughhackwheezehackhack*lm
A psalm of the sickbed. The Nyquil is my shephard, I shall not cough.
It maketh me to line down in warm blankets, it leadeth me to the still waters of the toilet if I have to puke.
It restoreth my soul; it guideth me along straightish paths to the kitchen with only some wobbling and smashing into walls.
Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of the Creeping Crud which is hitting, like, half the people on my friends list, I will fear no virus, for thou are with me; thy Tylenol and thy Benadryl, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a bed-tray before me in the presence of the virus (although I can't eat much on it); my Cup-O-Soup runneth over (I'll clean that up later.)
Surely goodness and health shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall get out of this frickin' house some time before Sunday when I have to teach Hebrew school.
(Actually, so far, I've not had nausea. Knock on wood.)
It maketh me to line down in warm blankets, it leadeth me to the still waters of the toilet if I have to puke.
It restoreth my soul; it guideth me along straightish paths to the kitchen with only some wobbling and smashing into walls.
Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of the Creeping Crud which is hitting, like, half the people on my friends list, I will fear no virus, for thou are with me; thy Tylenol and thy Benadryl, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a bed-tray before me in the presence of the virus (although I can't eat much on it); my Cup-O-Soup runneth over (I'll clean that up later.)
Surely goodness and health shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall get out of this frickin' house some time before Sunday when I have to teach Hebrew school.
(Actually, so far, I've not had nausea. Knock on wood.)