HNT (or, Happy Nyquil Trip)

Thursday night, as I sat here in this very chair, I said to my husband, "I'm going to bed." He looked at me with large round eyes of disbelief and said, "But it's not even 10pm!" Sure enough, it wasn't, and this could only mean one thing; FunkyB was getting sick.

Friday I woke for work to the sound of my brain pounding out an African rythmn in my ears.
"Call in sick" said the Lazy Voice
"I can't call in sick, moron. I'm covering a felony today." said i.

I drug my ass and other assorted body parts to the courthouse, only to have my felony trial turn into a plea. Yeah, you can rejoice, you tax-dollar conscious citizens, you members of the jury with a day off of work that now belongs to you and you alone. Funky was forced to play Hearts while her co-workers furiously poisoned her work space with Lysol Disinfectant.

As the case may be, HNT was shaping up to look like this:



However, as Thursday approaches, I'm happy to say that for you, JUST for YOU, Osbasso, I dug back into the archives a bit and found this shot to share.



Honestly, I'm not that refreshed-looking right now, but this is an accurate depiction of what I'll be doing as soon as I hit "Publish Post".

Happy HNT, Darlings. Funky needs a Ambien-night-night now.