I'm much better than I was,
But still a little one foot in the mashed potatoes.
I was so sick these past couple days.
I felt like Linda.
Curled like a crispy creme on a conveyor belt.
Hot like the Texas who eats it.
Being sick makes me really crazy.
On a good day I feel handicapped.
On a day with the flu, I'm like a less attractive version of Nell.
And my poor husband to be,
He takes it like a champ, with my feet in his lap and my brains oozing over to his side of the bed.
I don't know what's worse, the irritable idiot I turn into,
Or the paranoid freak of me who calls him at work the next day and apologizes in tears for my mucus behavior.
I had to do things this week like,
Say no to things I had said yes to,
Call a doctor,
And swallow big pills.
Yet here I am,
At the theatre,
Ignoring that blob in my throat,
I never stretch before a show.
Skin, Toast, achy joints