In a stunning fit of personal irony, I have completely lost my voice. Now, normally, when I’m sick, I get a head cold, pop some sudafed and move the hell on with my life. The last time I lost my voice, well, I can’t remember the last time I actually lost it completely.I think it may have been when I had my tonsils out at age 14. Talk about a fun time!
Normally when ill, I sound like a cross between Janis Joplin and one of the twins from the Simpsons (Thelma?), but now I sound like a balloon that has been stepped on. Repeatedly.
Dave is also sick but he has a fever, which essentially means that he’ll lounge around on the couch looking almost normal until I ask him to help me with something. When that happens, he’ll stop burbbling and drooling on the couch and start using a high-pitched voice while he weakly says things like, “The LIGHT, I can SEE THE LIGHT! DON’T GO TOWARD THE LIGHT! Mother, is THAT YOU?”
He’s trying with all of his might to out-sick me.
Today is National Blog For Choice Day, in celebration of the anniversary of Roe v Wade.
What most people don’t suspect, in not knowing me, is that since I chose to have my son Benjamin, rather than have an elective abortion, is that I must be anti-choice (as this is my blog, I refuse to buy into the whole pro-life terminology. I don’t actually believe that pro-life is anything but a nasty-sounding term, as most people, without referring to abortions would not voluntarily call themselves “anti-life.” Unless you’re suicidal it makes very little sense.).
Despite the evidence, I am overwhelmingly pro-choice.
I won’t try and bore you with the whys, the hows and all of the other details, as I don’t write well if I’m trying to be political and/or deep and meaningful. Besides 99% of what I might say have been better said by other, smarter, and more eloquent people.
But today I wholeheartedly celebrate Roe v Wade, who has allowed many women to choose how they want their own bodies managed.
[Imagine a nifty little graphic here. I can't figure out how the hell to put it here. Becky = idiot.]
If Dave and I make it through today without killing each other, I will consider it a major personal victory. Instead of being disgustingly sweet which is my standard MO when ill, I am full of The Angry.
So full of The Angry that I am trolling around looking for someone who can help me break in my new (pink) boxing gloves, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, heh, heh, heh. I need to ensure that I don’t have any contact with strangers today, lest they meet the completely irrational Becky that I have become.
So whose ass should I kick today? Anyone in particular?