A Bug

Sometimes you're the windshield.  Sometimes you're the bug. Sometimes the bug comes to live at your house and inflicts pain and suffering. And copious quantities of mucus.

Don't get me started with the mucus.

For the past 4 weeks (holy cow its been 4 weeks) my family has suffered through the worst, and I do mean worst, flu/cold virus thingie we have ever had.  It has been graciously shared around too. It seems that everyone we know has also suffered.

Long suffering doesn't bode well.  It makes it hard to get anything done.  Like say, laundry. Or dishes. Thankfully we homeschool because can you imagine if we had to catch up on all that missed school? Lawsy mercy!

Makes my mucus hurt just thinking about it. 

As it sits now, I have empty glasses, tea cups and plastic cups scattered, well, everywhere; under the couch, beside the bed and even on the washing machine.  I will, in all likelihood, still be discovering the now undisclosed location of many more drinking glasses over the course of the next year.

Don't even get me started on the used tissues!

That also makes my mucus hurt. Also, it makes that pesky mucus afraid. Very afraid.

If you have been lucky enough to have thus far escaped the clutches of that very bad bug, Saints preserve ya. Take your vitamins people.

If you have are among the long suffering crowd.  I will say a little prayer that a healthy friend will come do your dishes. 

And laundry.

And bring you tissues.