The Hellhole

Sunday, November 23, 2008

I had some fun things happen last week, giving me something interesting to blog about but of course I didn't feel like writing. A recap:

The first part of the week, The Vixen and one of her co-workers came into town from South Dakota to train me and one of my co-workers on some new software. I was excited to get to meet her in person. We met because my company and hers are doing business together but we talk/e-mail about tons of personal stuff, hobbies, interests, music, etc. not just our business project. We hit it off in person even more than we did via e-mail, so even the business stuff was fun, not just the chatting. It was great to put a face with a name/voice and I just love The Vixen! I want her to move here.

We wanted to entertain our visitors properly, so we went out to some great restaurants. We went here, and here, and here. Morton's is probably my favorite of the three. Their downtown location is about 1/2 a mile from my office; we took my car so the out-of-towners wouldn't have to negotiate downtown. I didn't see anywhere to park but Vixen's co-worker spotted a sign for valet parking so we stopped, got out and waited for the valet. And waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, we spotted a waiter out for a smoke break who said he'd get the guy for us. In the meantime, two other cars plus The Boss had pulled up. There was more waiting. At last Valet Man showed up to collect keys and we went inside for cocktails. I had a truly fabulous steak, by the way - get the New York strip medium-rare, au poivre. You won't be sorry.

When we finally left, after a great dinner, intelligent conversation and decadent desserts, what do you suppose was parked right outside the front door of Morton's? My Sebring, that's what. Now usually, whenever I've seen valets leave a car right out front it's because it's something fabulous like a Ferrari or a Lambo or a Bentley but noooo - he'd parked a Beemer, a Lincoln and lord knows what else only to leave my bad-ass Chrysler right at the door. So I exclaimed in mock outrage, "Dang, I want my five dollars back! Dude didn't park NOTHIN'!" Someone in my group pointed out that at least he'd moved it - we estimate that he backed it up five or maybe even six feet. Counting tip, Dude is making like a buck and a quarter per foot. (Of course, that tiny distance was enough driving to require him to move the seat, readjust the rearview and both side mirrors.)

Their first day in Atlanta, Vixen's co-worker was coming down with a cold which seemed to manifest itself mostly in sneezes and runny nose - she said she felt okay otherwise. By Wednesday night, I had that ache in my soft palette and that weird feeling in my throat so I was pretty sure I'd caught it. Thursday I felt okay, just had to cope with the constant sneezing/drippy nose (nothing new to me) but by that evening my throat hurt so badly that I wanted to claw at it. Friday morning, Alan advised me to call in sick. I opened my mouth to protest and - nothing. My voice was gone. He had to call The Boss for me. Not exactly professional to have someone else call you in sick, but if I'd called, all The Boss would have heard would have been an odd wheezing. He'd probably think he had a Heavy Breather calling from the old folks' home. I only had nasal congestion for about a day, though; it has since migrated to a full-blown chest cold with a nasty cough.

Last night was pretty rough; I was weary and wanted to sleep so badly, but lying down produced frequent bouts of coughing. I couldn't seem to get arranged so that I could sleep sitting up in bed, not in a way that worked, so eventually I grabbed a quilt and pillow, and headed for the couch. I was able to prop up better there. I am disgruntled about being sick but also because the timing caused me to miss a planned lunch with my friend Theresa on Friday, and a get-together with Nancy and Mark on Saturday.

Alan has been very kind and solicitous, keeping me stocked with tissues, water, Sprite, medicine. Diet Coke is my usual beverage but I always want Sprite or ginger ale when I'm sick. He's making me eat, too, and taking good care of me. Thanks to him, and some diligent puppeh and kitteh care, I'm on the mend.

6 Comments:

  • I'm glad you're better!

    By Blogger Nancy, at 10:41 PM  

  • Rest up! Puppeh affection makes everything better :)

    By Blogger A Margarita, at 9:39 AM  

  • My sympathies. Hope you are feeling better and that your Martian Death Flu did not communicate itself to Alan.

    cheers,
    Phil

    By Anonymous Phil C., at 10:03 AM  

  • RE: previous blog
    Are you SURE Marcel Marceau really said that?!?

    mom

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 2:28 PM  

  • Oh I adore you Helly! I had such a good time, I can not wait until I come again :)

    I really do love GA, so pretty there. I am just not sure I could handle 100% humidity. Who knows, where my feet will take me. I figure I have about a year or so here, and then it is Time for change, maybe Atlanta will be the change :)

    Glad you are feeling better now. Surpizingly I never got sick, I am still healthy as a horse. Usually if someone gets sick, and i am within 20 feet, I get sick, but this time.... I didn't!!! *knock on wood*

    By Blogger GreenEyedVixen, at 10:31 AM  

  • Drat! Get better. Colds suck.

    By Blogger basil, at 12:45 PM  

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