Day One...Gone to the Dog.

Buongiorno.
Somehow doesn't sound as romantic as I had hoped it would straight out of the box. Day one. Gone to the dog...I have a nasty cold today. The kind that reddens the nose to the likeness of an alcoholic uncle, swollen and ruddy from one too many whiskeys.  A whiskey would be nice today...My dog has been faithfully lying at my side the last two days, sticking her wet nose on the end of my bed to carefully examine me when my coughing fits become uncontrollable. With the exception of thinking that I might be hiding a tasty treat in all of those wadded up kleenexes, she has been content to accompanying me through the extent of this boring, stuffy day.  Would soup be good? I'd love to try, but my taste buds are as unresponsive as moss. I should have gone with Dennis to the nursing home today.  Nursing home food is bland. Never enough salt or seasoning.  My young cousin used to say that nursing homes smelled like "hot dish and farts."  Hmmm.  Today my house feels like an infirmary. Kleenex boxes, empty cups with remnants of "fluids" all of my well-meaning friends insist I ingest.  Daytime TV is terrible.  My poor husband.  How does he do this all day?  I have two days worth of court TV under my belt and I am ready to roll up my sleeves and get back to work, me and my sputum.  Looks like tomorrow I will make a run for it and make it "Take Your Sputum to Work Day."

Hope your day finds you booger-free, dear friends...
A domani...