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Spring organ recital

At the beginning of the month I signed on to do NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), wherein a blogger endeavors to post one item per day throughout the month. My posts were way down and this seemed like something that would goose it a little.

To paraphrase Lloyd Bridges in Airplane!, looks like I picked the wrong month to start posting daily.


Last Monday night I went to bed around 9:30, feeling fine, just tired (as befits a Monday). By Thursday morning, I was on my way to the doctor with Carl, who took the day off from work to go along, concerned I'd either pass out somewhere or end up in the hospital.

Neither happened, but it was no picnic -- strep throat, complicated by spring pollen and, I must add in the interest of full disclosure, the Type 2 diabetes that I haven't been all that diligent about. After two and a half hours of trying to stay upright in a plastic chair, I went home with two shots and three prescriptions. Then it was off to bed, watched over by Precious, kept company by various uncomplicated novels with big print, an assortment of bottled beverages, large economy-sized boxes of tissues, and my cell phone.

Didn't sleep the whole time; barely dozed. Found out later from a friend that the steroid shot they gave me is the reason for this. Wish I'd known; I could have made like The Incredible Hulk and moved some furniture so Carl could steam-clean the rugs.

Started coming back to life on Friday, and then, once out of bed, I sat up until 3 in the morning watching those FBI / true crime shows on cable. There are some really crappy ones out there, but Crime 360 is a cut above -- shows the actual law-enforcement personnel as they investigate the case, rather than dramatizations or reenactments. I also got reacquainted with my old buddy Adrian Monk.

Normally, I'd have been here on the computer but the power supply on my faithful, 5-year-old workhorse chose that day to retire. It spent the night mysteriously tapping, as though it were trying to send me a message from the great beyond. Perhaps a reminder not to forget our special bond. I didn't -- Saturday morning, despite no more than 3 hours' dozing and dreaming and coughing and Kleenexing, I got it over to a friend's computer shop, where it was restored to its former vigor. I actually got a lot accomplished yesterday, which may explain why I got my first relatively normal night's sleep in nearly a week. Precious, as always, was close by, standing guard. This came in handy, especially when the sanctuary was invaded by a ferocious terrorist lightning bug. Precious disposed of it in a manner I'd prefer not to think about (i.e. without benefit of condiments), after knocking the shade off the lamp, clearing the nightstand of two months' worth of books and papers, tearing the sheets half off the bed and creating a small whirlwind in the center of the room, estimated at approximately F1. This is unusually early in the year for lightning bugs. The summer ought to be interesting.

It's back to work tomorrow. As early as last Tuesday, my voice had changed so radically that people were coming up to the front office to see if we'd hired some new person to answer the phones. While I won't sound quite as froglike tomorrow as I did at the doctor's, it will still take awhile to get back to those mellifluous, Grace Kelly tones that all my colleagues have become accustomed to.

But the daily blog posts should resume.

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