Pour Some Sugar On me

The Pita stayed home yesterday do laundry[nope], do the ironing[nope], watch Top Gear on the DVR[yep], be with me yesterday [I think, yes] ---- okay, fine probably just to get his 2.5 hour workout in.

One conversation went like this:

P: So what do you want to do today?
Me: Uhh, get better.
P: Let's go somewhere.
Me: like?
P: to look at cars.
Me: Ya, I'm sure that'll help.
P: You're not very nice today.
Me: I'm sick.  See the temp [not good], hear me [I sound like a phlegmy 80 year old smoker], smell me [just kidding-I'm a showeraholic especially when I'm sick]
P: "Pour some sugar on" you! [we are a rare breed [couple] who can converse exclusively using song titles, we are just special like that.]
Me: "Every rose has it's thorn"
P: But you are my "wild thing".... you make my heart sing. 
Me: fine . . "pass the Dutchie" - let's go.

It was a nice distraction until about noon when I thought my head and lungs were about to blow. 

I mean look at this Panamera Turbo. [drool]

So it was back home for me and off to the doctor.  Ya, I guess I do need those antibiotics after all.  2pm I get there.  "Ummmm, honey your appointment is at 3pm".

I was too pissed at her calling me honey to even care about the time problem.
Seriously.  If you are a woman, don't ever call me "honey. The only exception is if your hair is silver/white or if you are a parent of mine.  I HATE, HATE, HATE being called "honey".

Anyway.

Wasn't about to sit there for an hour so I did what all good, kind, considerate sick people would do. . . . . . . went to buy running shoes.

Where I met "Andy" who will be joining me [sorta] at the Man Vs Horse race in October.

Andy:  will it be your first trail run? [we had just finished the 15 minute talk about my "treadmill running"]
Me:  Kinda.  I did do the Whiskey Row Marathon but don't worry, I KNOW it's not the same type of trail.
Andy: The 25 will be challenging.
Me: Well, I'm doing the 50.
Andy: [nope nothing-just the look]

waiting
waiting
waiting

Andy: you are doing the 50? [yes, there was an emphasis on the "you" that I did not enjoy]
Me: You bet cha.  Show me the buckle! [big warm, sickly smile.]
Andy: wow.  I'll uhhh make sure to look for you.
Me: ya! It'll be fun to show you my buckle.  [I'm joking-I didn't say that . . . .]
Me {revised}:  You think I'm "done for", don't you?
Andy: I'll be really impressed.

Uggg. Whatever. He better not have sold me the "wrong" shoes. ;)

Note to self [never shop under the influence of Nyquil]

I am dying to try these out!!!

Now for a drum roll . . . . I have . . . . . walking pneumonia.  awesome.  He said I could call it running pneumonia if it made me feel better.