Write four lines of prose about something that is: eternal.
Max seemed to be doing pretty well with his cold today, I'm happy to report. I'm less thrilled to mention that I seem to be doing steadily worse. I would like a new nose now, please and thank you.
Back on the positive side of things, I successfully drove to Kelowna to pick up Sue this afternoon and brought her back here to see her nephew again. Max, after an initial quiet period, was very enthusiastic about seeing her again.
Actually, I'm surprised he managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time.
Anyway, I hope to be feeling better by tomorrow morning, as Max really wants to show his aunt the new play cafe and I'd like to be there for that. If not, I'll stay home and sulk/rest on the couch while Kat goes with them.
Shoo, cold. You are not wanted here.
I grow weary of this out of tune automatic snot vending machine. I know it won't stay this way forever, but right now that is not how it seems. It appears quite content, despite my clear protestations, with its home on my face. I just want it gone and gone right now, never to return to this unwelcoming place.