If I wrote “I can’t breathe,” you’d probably misunderstand

Amy Biancolli will talk about “Living and writing in Smalbany: A love story” on April 25 at 1:30 at the Washington Avenue Branch of the Albany Public Library.

respiratorysystemI’ve been feeling crummy all week. It’s probably bronchial.

Missed church Sunday. In fact, I never even got out of my pajamas.

Muddled through work on Monday and Tuesday. But Tuesday night, the sound of my own coughing and wheezing, plus a sore throat, kept me awake most of the night.

By Wednesday, my condition was too aggravating, not to mention exhausting. I went to see my doctor, who gave me DRUGS. Sorry, pharmaceuticals, including one that helped me to sleep for a few hours on Wednesday afternoon, and gave me a decent sleep on Wednesday night. Sleep is GOOD.

Thursday morning, I had an irritating coughing jag. Take more medicine; good thing I take the bus to work, because operating heavy machinery is off the table. It’d be nice to finally pull out the bicycle from storage, but I’d likely be pulled over for riding while impaired, and rightly so.

Hand-eye coordination is iffy. The talking to self is up, way up, just to remind me to turn off the burners on the stove or put the milk back in the fridge. I managed to knock nearly a whole cup of ginger ale onto my computer keyboard.

If I haven’t visited your blog yet this week, especially the ABC Wednesday folks, I will, eventually. I left a lengthy comment on this interesting post by Arthur, which I obviously failed to submit properly, and I’m presently too tired to rewrite it.

I haven’t worked on that poster for the Friends of the Albany Public Library for that talk by Amy Biancolli, “Living and writing in Smalbany: A love story” on Saturday, April 25 at 1:30 at the Main Washington Avenue Branch of the Albany Public Library. That’s preceded by a luncheon at noon for $20 at the University Club. Hey, I’ll get to it.

The worst part of this condition is that it’s Lent when we often perform my favorite music, but I am unable to sing. I try, but I hear myself go flat. Which I suppose is better than NOT hearing myself go flat.

The only post I wrote all week wasn’t even for this blog. It was about a girl I know who had her wheelchair stolen; a fundraiser generated the $5000 to get it replaced.

Finally, something I found interesting about Dick Nixon at fivethirtyeight.com: Let’s Be Serious About Ted Cruz From The Start: He’s Too Extreme And Too Disliked To Win. That Ted Cruz who failed to protect his name domain.

A chart there, which I’ve copied here, shows that Nixon was a flaming liberal compared with the bulk of Republicans who’ve run for President in the past 40 years. Make of that what you will.
conservative-datalab-cruz-1

Author: Roger

I'm a librarian. I hear music, even when it's not being played. I used to work at a comic book store, and it still informs my life. I won once on JEOPARDY! - ditto.

7 thoughts on “If I wrote “I can’t breathe,” you’d probably misunderstand”

  1. I recently saw something like this chart that demonstrated how on many matters Ronnie Reagan looked like a flaming patriotic Liberal compared to Mr. Obama. That’s how badly our government has disintegrated in the last 30 years or so. Someone recently told me, “Fish rot from the head first.” We sure have a lot of rot at the top.

    Roger, sounds like you got that Creeping Crud that’s been going around since last Fall. Some people seem to take forever to get over it, it’s gotta be frustrating. Take care of yourself.

  2. What Jaquandor said. I’ve had bronchitis, it’s no fun. (And the “surprise” steroid shot my doctor gave me once to “clear the lungs out” was also no fun)

  3. Last time the doctor looked me over, he gave me this steroid spray to clear out the stuffiness that would not leave my nose. I’m almost afraid to try it.

  4. You work too hard, Roger.
    I hope you’ll have a better week than last week.
    Best wishes to your wife and daughter too.
    Wil, ABCW

  5. Roger, I feel your pain. Just got yr email. I have it too! Yikes. And I have to sing a solo, a song I wrote for Maundy Thursday, TONIGHT. Yikes and yikes. Prayers to you all. Love, Amy

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