C here. Having only today really recovered from a grotesquely nauseous 48 hours - a condition, I learned, insidiously conferred on me by treacherous "friends" feigning generosity and holiday beneficence by offering delectable food, delicious drink, and delightful company whilst quietly spreading a horrendous virus to all their Christmas Eve gathering guests (so thought-out and exhaustive was their ruse that the host herself apparently took the bug! Clever fiends...) - I thought Mrs. Elsea and I were nonetheless on track to leave in, well, now about 22 hours for Chicago.
The morning brought new treachery, and now my lovely bride rests her head on the toilet seat, waiting for the malady's next attack (pretty good imagery there, right?). A sad day indeed.This is where you come in. I need your help. It is Christmas, after all. If you find it in your kind-hearted souls to send Mrs. Elsea a pick-me-up line on Facebook or the Tweeter thing, perhaps a textual message via cellular phone or a written note via pigeon carrier, I would personally be deeply grateful.
Nobody likes to be sick. And nobody likes to be sick around Christmas.
Thanks everybody. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours!
- C
No comments:
Post a Comment