Dear Body;
You are on notice. I know you have enjoyed being sick the past few days, but no more! Actually, I kind of doubt you’ve enjoyed the fever and constant runny nose, but perhaps you are a masochist. Perhaps feeling like crap is exactly what floats your boat. I have always pegged you for the more twisted sort.
At any rate, you are hereby and forthwith banned from getting sick again until at least November. I want to enjoy my week in Italy and I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of a church-full of people by sneezing and sniffling as I wobble in fevered delirium down the aisle. [“I, Teri, take thee ACHOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!“]
I’ve got my eye on you, damnit. You get sick again, and I will be forced to punish you in a form which will be decided upon once I have ascertained whether you are or are not a masochist. Because YOU WILL NOT LIKE IT! No, ma’am!
Threateningly,
Me