Sick and un-breathing.

I'm sick. I feel like poop. I have something I didn't know I could get- Tracheitus. It's inflammation and infection of the trachea. My chest hurts and it's difficult to breath. I constantly feel like I have food stuck in my throat and the peristalsis hasn't kicked in to move it down. I feel like crap.

Sickness is spurred on by guilt. I got such a cool compliment about my blog from Sergio Dreyer - the Owner and Brains behind the Grand-Daddy empire- and I felt such guilt that I didn't even know which post her was referring to. I couldn't remember what I last wrote.

So, from in between my continental pillows, while I watch the Ironman pack to go away to his 10 year school reunion (something that makes me feel ever more pap), I'm typing to splash some ink on the pages of my blog.

When one's feet barely touch the ground ever day, and work and life consume my being, it's not a surprise that I haven't had a chance to dance on the key-board in a while.

While I lie in my bed, desperately waiting for my big, fat, painful injection of medication to kick in, I'm sending hello's to all of you. I hope you're sipping on some good red wine in this freezing winter weather and, most of all (because it's what I wish for myself) I hope that you can breath right now. Not only in the literal sense- taking in oxygen and giving off carbon dioxide without feeling like you're made of a leaky sieve- but in a figurative sense as well. I hope you are enjoying the small things and handling the big things. And breathing in the good things.

Here's hoping that my leaky sieve gets better and that my butt didn't get bruised by a big fat needle for nothing. Oh, and that I can stop running for a few minutes sometime soon so that I can dance on the key-board again.

Love and Gratitude
xx

PS: Thanks for the Compliment Sergio. Hope you come back and read this blog when I have a bit more time to write something half-decent - Mands.

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