Down with the sickness...

I've got a feva, and the only cure is a lot of liquids and rest...

This was the case over the past weekend, during which I spent the majority of my time ailing on the couch.   Fortunately,  I have an awesome wife, who has a legitimate concern for my well-being, and spares no effort to ensure my happiness.

While laying around, bitching about how the pain in my head could only be compared to the feeling one would have if "their brain was expanding at the same time they got their head caught in an ever-compressing vice grip", my wife was making homemade soup and bread for me.  Really??? 
That's just too damn nice.

Saturday, I was running a fever a little over 100 (my normal temperature runs a little lower than 97).  My wife was diligent about keeping my water glass full for the entire day (28 glasses of water in all).  This of course allowed me to get quite a bit of exercise for a bed-ridden sicky, traveling back and forth from the couch to the bathroom.  All of this "exercise", I'm sure, was instrumental in retaining at least some kind of appetite (which I generally lose when sick).  'twas a good thing I had an appetite, because there was certainly no shortage of food. 

--My wife is like a little Paula Dean (except for the fact that she's unfathomably smart, smoking hot, Ukrainian, not Southern, doesn't use up a cow's worth of butter in a single dish when cooking, has never once referred to anything as a "meat cookie", and most of all, takes care of me when I'm sick--something Paula Dean has never once offered to do.)

As it turns out, by yesterday (Sunday), my fever fell back below 100, and gradually got back to normal.  I am of course attributing my recovery completely to the efforts of my lovely wife, with the help of tea, honey, soup, bread, and water.

I'm fairly certain the least helpful part of my recovery was the Pats 28-21 loss at home to the Jets.  The one good thing that came from their loss is the fact that I can now break the contract I made with myself, and shave this ridiculous "Playoff Beard" I've been sporting for the past several weeks.

On that note, it's also a great excuse for me to leave the equally as ridiculous handlebar mustache that came as a byproduct of said beard.  Photo seen here:

Pretty good.

Talk to you guys later.

Love,

Zak