So I'm back and I'm probably more than a little rusty here. I certainly don't how to begin this post, a post I've been stressing about for days now, so with your consent, I'll begin with a warm-up exercise. It's something that I do at least once a day, sometimes multiple times, as a kind of centering activity, a refocusing of my mental and emotional energy. It is, of course, apologizing to my wife.
Dear Sharon,
I'm sorry for implying that you were somehow behind my decision to take a break from posting. You had nothing to do with it. And now you may stop beginning all of our interactions with, "Not that I want you to blame me for this in front of your rabid fans, but..." Furthermore, now that my break from blogging is over, you may also stop constantly interrupting me with, "Isn't there someone online who would rather hear this?" Please accept my apology and thank you in advance.
Your husband,
Brian
So it's March. March 1st. Four days from when the state of Texas, among others, holds the primary which may finally decide the Democratic nominee for President, something that completely blows my mind because, in case you haven't thought of this, asking Texans which Democrat they prefer is a lot like asking my daughters which leafy, green vegetable they prefer. If the ballot has "Neither" as an option, we may never get a candidate. Still, that we are nine months away from the election and already both parties are limited to candidates despised by Rush Limbaugh makes me feel even more optimistic about my country than back in January when Starbucks announced it would be closing one hundred stores. It's a good time to be an American is what I'm saying here.
February was a blur of activity here, and by activity I mean the flu. Jesus Lord, for almost the entire month the flu pounded this family down into a kind of subhuman, Morlockian existence, capable of nothing more than grunts, whines, and watching Dora the Explorer. My wife, Sharon, was hit hardest of all, and at one point she spent over 42 hours in bed. I timed it. 42 hours and 37 minutes, to be exact, at which point she rose from the bed and promptly passed that heinous virus on to me.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm making a phone call."
"Brian, it's 5 AM. Who are you calling?"
"You."
"What?"
"I'm calling you. Hold on. Damn, I got your voicemail."
"Why are you call--"
"Shh! Hi. It's Brian. Listen, I've got the flu and I'm not coming in today. Could you do me a favor? I'm supposed to be in an all-day meeting with the three kids in the other bedrooms. Can you cancel that for me? Just tell them I'm not coming in. Thanks. You're a doll."
But, of course, I knew that if I took a whole month off of blogging and all I had to show for it was a 103 degree fever, some chills, and an achy joint or two, there would be hell to pay come March 1st, so I also watered the Chia turtle.
Because that's how awesome I am.
