That’s right, doom. I have been sick all week, it started with the sniffles and now it has turned into something worthy of medication. I am told it is an upper respiratory infection, which always reminds me of The Stand by Stephen King. It seems whenever I read that book I get sick. Maybe it’s just me, but if this has happened to you, leave a reply.
But, back to the doom. It seems that my girlfriend may be a carrier of said doom. I submit she had “allergies” for two days and then was back to normal. I am going on a week and a half, missed two days of work, and had to go to the doctor. For the record, I don’t like going to the doctor, there is a fifty/fifty chance they want to give me a shot. Luckily, I didn’t get one. My point is that I didn’t want to go, probably wouldn’t have gone, if it weren’t for the doom carrier making me go.
I know what you are thinking, look at the big man whining about shots he didn’t get and still blaming his girlfriend, isn’t that just like a man.
Well, you may be right about that, but I may be right about the doom. Need more proof?
A while back, Candace’s plane was struck by lightening. See? If I ever fly again, I will remember to pack underwear in my carry-on bag.
-R. L. King