So. Yeah. Still sick. Still really really sick. Wiley has been a champ about keeping me company. Yesterday he climbed on top of me on the recliner and sprawled right out.
I think he's upset that I haven't been sleeping in the bed this week, so he isn't getting his nightly cuddle sessions. I couldn't believe he actually fell soundly asleep this way.
Unfortunately the clicking of the camera woke him, so I used it as an excuse to take some "selfies" of him.
He looks so perplexed!
Of course just when I think he can't get any cuter or sweeter, he steals five grilled chicken breasts off of the counter (I swear to you I thought I had them out of his reach) and eats them while I'm in the shower. I knew I was in for a bad surprise when I came downstairs to this guilty face.
He's squinting because he can't even maintain eye contact. What a brat.
Anyway, I finally caved and agreed to take a sick day to go to the doctor tomorrow. At least that's the plan, assuming I can get an appointment. Because right about now, Wiley looks like I feel.
That sums it up.
I apologize for the lack of new content right now, but I'm in no place mentally to do that. Feel free to click around through the archives though. We have 350 posts or so. You're bound to find something to entertain yourself. And if you have a story you want to share get that in to me at pabibliophile@gmail.com.
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