Holy cow people. I am so out of it. Just in case you guys are thinking that everything is all roses here at Lou’s place, I am here to inform you that while I am tickled to death to be moving into this new place, several other things have been going on that I haven’t had the energy to blog about yet. Now that I am sitting down typing I am noticing that my right contact is a bit blurry, so it is really weird to look at the screen and try to read what I am writng.

To begin with, my friend gave Maggie the Cold From Hell and Maggie shared it with me. So I had about four days of sleep deprivation while Maggie went through the worst of it, and then about five more sleepless nights while I’ve been dealing with it. I wasn’t aware that much snot could come out of one little baby. When I was young and ignorant I swore up and down that no child of mine would run around with bogies smeared across her face and green goobs everywhere. However, I would have to glue a tissue to my hand to even have a prayer of keeping her snot free so for now, I just watch her crawling around the floor looking very much like Charlie Chaplain with a little green mustache perched above her upper lip. Very cute, very demure. It’s really fun when I do work up the energy to go wipe her schnoz. Apparently she is quite attached to her boogers, because she screams bloody murder and turns a simple nose wipe into a three minute event that usually ends with the bogies smeared across her cheeks and into her hair and big fat tears rolling down her cheeks, which we all know only serve to produce more snot and lands me right back where I started.

My favorite part of this whole cold thing has got to be the weird side effect that I have dubbed “boogerboob”. Since Maggie is still nursing, and can’t breathe through her nose while she eats she basically blows her nose into my chest while she nurses. Boogers and Nosh anyone?

I really thought I wasn’t going to get the full effect of this cold. I had about four days of pre-cold where my throat was itchy and my glands were swollen and I had a horrible headache, but I thought I would be just fine even though my entire body was screaming to be put to bed and let alone. I thought this until late Saturday night when I was up preparing to speak in church the next morning and I started to feel even worse. I was so nervous about being late to church (because, you know, it looks really pathetic when the speaker is late) that I woke up every half an hour to check the clock and by five a.m. my throat had gone from itchy to I Want To Die Every Time I Swallow. I got up and took some Tylenol, which was painful. While finding the Tylenol I found some leftover Percocet and very seriously thought about taking some of that, because really truly, I was in pain, and not only does Percocet kill pain, but it makes me very, very happy. I’d be a lot less nervous with a Percocet in me. The reasonable person inside told me that it would not be wise to be high while speaking in church, even if I would be happy and pain free, I would probably be a little too relaxed, and people, there is a reason we have the Super-Ego and Ego to keep the Id in check. I need mine functioning in public or I can guarantee I would land myself in trouble. This is also one of the reasons I don’t drink. I don’t even want to think about me drunk. Truly yikes.

So why, if this is the case, has the good little Mormon girl been in the liquor store not once, but three times this week? Why because liquor stores have the best boxes for moving! They are free and small enough to carry while still being sturdy enough to shove lots of junk into without bursting open. So they advertise Jack Daniels and Triple Distilled Gin (what in the heck does triple distilled mean?). So what if my future neighbors see me hauling this stuff inside and think, “Whoaaaa, our new neighbor must be a total lush!” They’s good boxes. *hic*

So here I am, packing up my liquor boxes, wetting my pants every time I blow my red, miserable nose, and coughing up a lung. All this joy and almost the entire house is ready to be moved. We upped the moving day to Tuesday, so now all we have to do is find a few able bodied young men and somebody with a truck Oh, and get through my sister in-law’s wedding which is this weekend, and which will probably kill me with all of the extra relatives and events and the fact that I’m not likely to get any sleep for yet another three days, because people, I have to do the flowers which will add to the already guaranteed allergy attack I have every time I visit my in-laws. Ha ha ha ha ha they’re coming to take me away!