Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Erasmus B. Dragon

Anyone fortunate enough to have access to an NPR station that airs Tom and Ray Magliozzi's unequaled Car Talk will recognize the name I've shamelessly lifted from their "staff list" for use as today's post title. Trademark violation acknowledged.

I really don't enjoy reading blogs about other peoples' misery. I realized this yesterday while reading the blog of another writer who posted a lengthy and way-too-detailed diatribe about the ways he has been plagued by sinus infections, bronchitis and nasal polyps over the years. So I shall keep my whining brief.

I have been - how shall I put this? - feeling like I've been drug through a knothole backward for more than a week now. (I got that last phrase from my husband; it was one of the ways he charmed me when we first met. See? I have hardly an original thought left in my body.) It started with a soft little drumbeat sound in my left ear the night we arrived in Arizona and gradually progressed to a full-on phlegm storm of epic proportions, complete with relentless, hacking cough, utter sleeplessness and the near-disappearance of my voice. The hale and hearty husband of a friend jovially boomed that my lungs were just cleaning themselves out now that I'm back from a year of breathing smutty air. "Ha ha," I said (though it came out sounding more like the driver's side door of my truck being closed when it needs a good dousing of WD-40). He might be right, though. In the late 60's, Flagstaff was reported to be the place where the last pure breath of fresh air on earth was breathed - I kid you not; look it up.

Regardless, since last Tuesday I've kept up with my work-from-home work, gotten the boy to the school bus stop, unpacked Lord-knows-how-many boxes, made pilgrimages to Wal-Mart and Safeway to re-stock our cupboards, taken a truck-load of junk to the dump (out with the old, you know) and dealt with the dreaded County to secure a permit for the impending wood stove install. Gee, I can't imagine why this gunk has continued to plague my lungs for over a week. I think I need some kind of superhero cape, though I'm not sure what letter should be sewn onto it.

The thing about complaining is that it's much too satisfying to keep as brief as one initially intended. I think my whining's done now, though. Thanks for listening.


  1. ::FWAPPING AND SWISHING VELVETLY RED SEQUINNED CAPE WITH PURPLE FRINGE:: What?..You didn't get your Super-mom cape??! You should have received your complimentary capewear as soon as you became the mother of multiple children! You better check into this.. There may be some sort of SuperCape Identity Theft going on here.. ::grin::
    I know it must be total culture shock for you right now. And the fact that you came back to all of this a second time, KNOWING full well what you were getting into, (most of us didn't have a clue that we were candidates for a 'Twin Peaks' pilot show when we got here) All I can say is Kudos girl. You Rock. :)

  2. Anonymous4:46 AM