The boys brought the first cold of the season home approximately five minutes after returning to school in September. I've been stuck with a nagging, persistent cough ever since, which this week decided to dig in even deeper and turn into bronchitis. (Although that was a relief to hear, as I'd totally WebMD'd myself into thinking I had pneumonia.) So I've spent a large part of this week in bed, and an even larger part of this week coughing my fool head off.
(Although the largest part of this week was spent refreshing Google News because WHAT the SHIT is HaPpEnInG.)
I am so tired of coughing. So is my cat, who still insists on sleeping on my chest and then bites my face a little bit every time I cough to let me know I've disturbed her. I'M SORRY YOUR DUMB MAJESTY.
SPEAKING OF DOGS AND ALSO INSANITY, we have applied (and been approved) to be a foster home for Poppy's rescue!! We're going to foster a senior pittie, because seeing sad little old men and ladies in the kill shelter listings shatters my heart into fourteen million pieces and I have come VERY CLOSE to adopting one or four or seven. (And it's not just me. The only reason I even SEE those listings is because Jason sends them me with sadface emojis.) So we've decided that fostering is probably the better plan.
The rescue hasn't found the right fit yet but don't think it should take too long. In the meantime we simply talk excitedly about Temporary Bonus Dog, and then I wonder aloud if there's a foster home need for lizards, or fainting goats, and Noah wants a turtle. Greetings from our zoo! You probably don't wanna wear black pants around here for awhile.