I'm Leaning Towards Monkey Pox.

OK. This is bad. The Sheep has clearly run out of luck in the health department. After a good run between September and March, I have been repeatedly hit with one viral disturbance or another for a solid month. Anyone else out there spend an inordinate amount of time with young children? If so, then you are aware of their petri dish tendencies and willingness to share.

I went to bed around 10:00 last night. There'd been some sock time that evening and I noticed that my wrists were a bit more sore than usual. Interesting, but not earth-shattering. However, as I tucked myself away, turned the sound machine to "ocean" and snuggled in for a wee bit of reading prior to wandering off into slumberland, I commented to Persephone, "Golly, Mommy is feeling a mite sore." In typical feline fashion, she seemed unimpressed.

Within 30 minutes, my entire body felt like I had swallowed a squad of tiny ninjas who were practicing their moves on every organ and joint I have. I became so cold that I started to spasm uncontrollably, thereby aggravating muscles already taking a pounding from the ninjas. A quick check of the old temp. revealed that I was hovering somewhere around 101 degrees. As The Sheep normally rings in around 97 and change, this was, shall we say, "significant." It was a long night.

I did make it into work, however. I had a meeting at 8:00 that I simply couldn't miss for a variety of reasons. I actually made it to about 10:30 before the school nurse stepped in and sent me home. She's saying flu.

I, however, would prefer something a bit more dramatic. Before leaving, I requested of my staff that they make sure my tombstone read, "Here lies Ms. Sheep. She died of Monkey Pox." I like saying, "Monkey." And pox sounds so intense. Monkey Pox...try saying it. It's fun.

Of course, it helps if you still have a fever of 101. Most things seem pretty funny when your brain is on 1/2 power.

Monkey Pox...heh, heh!

SA