Short and sweet, that's how I like it.
We're still in Florida, having a great time.
Except for the fact that I seem to have come down with a very nasty sore throat and cough ... in a city where the temperatures have been record highs. What did I do to deserve this, I ask? And yes, I know viruses have nothing to do with air temperature, but I thought it was a poignant point just the same.
Yesterday, I told myself I was not going to succumb to the illness. I was going to Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure if it killed me, because we don't just amble on down to Orlando every day, and I wasn't leaving without doing the Hulk Coaster at least once, conscious or un-.
Well, I did the Hulk twice, and would have gone on a third time had my partner in crime (also known as Em) been willing. She, unfortunately, had a headache, so we decided to bow out of a third turn. Of course, the only way I could do the coaster, or any other ride that day, was by taking lots and lots of pills. I still felt like crap, and whined more than usual, but I got through the day, and that's what matters. Seriously, folks, what choice did I really have?
Today, we were planning on going to Magic Kingdom one more time, but the weather doesn't sound too conducive to doing anything but sitting inside. They're actually telling people not to go out because there might be tornadoes coming through. Yes, I said tornadoes. Last time we were here (four years ago), we ended up getting back home a day late because Hurricane Wilma decided to come through.
We plan things really well.
I'm going to go lie down now and hope that the burning feeling I'm getting through my face is not in fact a raging fever. Next time you hear from me, I'll be back home, safe in my own bed, moaning quietly to myself as I lie in the fetal position and make mental lists of all the things I still have to do before Christmas.
Wish me luck, and please send me chicken soup.