Bad Genetics

I've spent the past two days making time with a box of tissues and doses of Robitussin. Yesterday was the worst. I was in a Borders and I was just getting progressively worse. I kept having to blow my nose and was catching looks from all the other patrons. I swear I felt like I was a character straight out of the movie Outbreak. I was the Motaba virus. People probably thought I had the swine flu. But I don't...I promise.

I'm starting to think that my buddy Scott is right and I might have bad genetics. Two weekends straight of being sick is just not right. My mom's reaction,"It doesn't come from my side."

I think I figured it out, though. I spent the better part of the summer in my apartment reading and writing. I didn't venture out much except on the weekends. Now I'm stuck in a classroom full of gruby kids who barely wash their hands. My immune system is getting it's ass handed to it. Gotta pump that vitamin C!

Oh, and did the weather gods not get the memo that it's Labor Day weekend? It's been torrential most of the week here and it doesn't look like it's letting up any time soon. I just hope it's sunny tomorrow for my BBQ with the fam. When I asked my dad what he was making he offered this menu: "Ribs...corn on the cob...Chivo." That's goat for all you non-spanish speakers. He won't actually serve goat. I promise you. I just think it's funny how whenever I ask what we're eating, he tells me were eating goat. Dads--you gotta love them.