it hit me at 5 o’clock this morning.

the disease that plagued my entire family the past 2 weeks settled it’s nasty self in me.

I tossed and turned all Saturday night, until 5am, when I jumped from my bed like there was a spring under my butt.
I ran into the bathroom and threw my head down with an anticipated sigh.

“I knew it. now it’s got me.”

I crawled back into bed after peeling myself off the bathroom floor and stayed there for the rest of the morning.

all I can say is, thank goodness it was Sunday so Jason could watch the kids while this stomach eating bacteria invaded my body.

by 5 o’clock, I was feeling a little better and absolutely bored out of my gord.
I can’t stand being sick!
just lying there, wasting away the day. getting nothing, whatsoever accomplished.

that is not in my nature.

so what did I do?

I opened a can of white paint and spent the next few hours in my downstairs bathroom.

I figured, if I was going to have a relapse of what I had this morning, I would be in the perfect spot.

now, my bathroom has a nice fresh coat of paint and I am feeling much better.

apparently, painting is the cure for this stuff.
see.
I should have ripped Jason out of bed last week and shoved a paintbrush in his hand, slapped him on the butt and showed him a wall.

he would have been on the road to recovery.

or maybe this cure only works on me.