"MOM, are you SERIOUS?"

Although she will never read this because of her lack of interwebs skills, props to my mother [woman in the Snuggie or "Marsha" for short] for attempting to scare the living shit out of me today.

Let's start. Beginning Monday, my health took a turn for the decline.

• Monday, approximately 12 p.m.: "Why does my throat hurt? I feel tired."
• Monday, approximately 9 p.m., Job #2: "I can't talk to my tables anymore. I hope they don't need anything because I'm losing my voice. No, I will not go through my complimentary samples of wine spiel."

• Tuesday, 4 a.m.: "Oh god, I'm dead. I'm dying. Sleeping vertical. Keep coughing. Ah. Sentences with no nouns."
• Tuesday, 4 a.m. t 7:30 a.m.: I wake up every 10 minutes dreaming of detrimental illness.
• Tuesday, appx. 11 a.m.: Convo with the Marsha.
Me: "Ya, my throat is really killing me. It burns my throat to talk so I'm staying home."
Mom: "Ok, well call me if you get bored and just want to talk."
Me: "..."
• Tuesday, normal work hours: Consisted of me sleeping 14 hours and sitting on the couch. Life is boring at home. Except...

Positive: CSI, Law & Order, and other various crime shows are on all day.
Negative: I now fear I will fall victim to a serial killer walking home from job #2. Unfortunately, my demise will end with some sort of assault and a Jane Doe case only to be solved in 2019. Because of the endless commercials I've seen for the movie '2012' my case will never be solved. Awesome!

Now my Wednesday consists of coming to work two hours late, catching up on e-mails and wondering why the cell phone bill wasn't paid. Then I receive the call from Marsha.

If you know me, you know I love my mom but we are very...different. A different world would be fair, maybe one where she doesn't giggle so much and wear jeans every day. Today though, she called "just to see how you're doing!" The call ended with her practically in tears describing the effects of swine flu and early detection.

God bless the woman, but she's a nurse of over 25 years. Every time my brother or I falls ill she acts like we're victims of the bubonic plague.

Mom: "I [sob] just want you to be careful!"
Me: "Mom, do you talk to your patients like this?"
Mom: "Can you [sob] avoid public transportation?"
Me: "What? Mom, are you serious? No."

At this point, I do not have the swine. If I do, I will keep you updated. Maybe Marsha will make me a caringbridge.com blog.