sicksicksicksicksicksicksick

I'm knocked out with a nasty cold right now, courtesy of my daughter and husband (jerks.) And my medical oncologist still hasn't called me back yet (jerk) about whether or not I can take vitamin C and echinacea with these new drugs. And my laptop keeps freezing (total jerk) and overall I'm just in a foul mood. In the comic strip of my life there's a little black cloud of crankiness speckled with cold-germs surrounding me as I shuffle around with my teacup and bad hair. I am really unpleasant right now.  Like, ready to kill someone because I don't have slippers -- as if that could possibly be someone else's fault. How is it that I can handle cancer (biggest jerk of them all) with a sense of humour, but a cold makes me demonic? I think my best option is to get back in bed and scowl at the world from under my duvet until I feel well enough to be nice again. Or at least well enough to stop with the name-calling.