No Good Deed Ever Goes Unpunished

It's been a little while since I last posted. Things have been in ludicrous speed over here at Chez Quinn. The Man has worked thirteen days straight with no days off. I've been inundated with volunteering for too many projects, huge honking paperwork from being president of my local writer's group, and illness.

I'm sick with a heavy duty cold. It's draining, yet I can deal. But two nights ago, after the oldest Urchin's parent teacher conference, her former kindergarten teacher came out into the hallway looking like death warmed over. She was dizzy and pale, and soon began vomiting. Oh goody, the flu. She didn't have anyone to pick her up and was insisting that she would drive herself. To Harrisburg. During rush hour.

The Man was with me for the conference, as usual, and we decided that I'd drive the teacher in her car to her house and he'd follow in the deer dented minivan. So I gathered her stuff while she grabbed her trash can and we proceded to her car.

The brand new car she'd just picked up the night before.

So here I am, driving a brand spanking new SUV, during rush hour, with crazy people trying to re-enact my deer episode from last month, while I attempt to drive smoothly in the stop and go traffic as the poor teacher "had the flu" even more into her trashcan beside me.

And then it started to snow.

Not what I needed. Talk about white knuckling it. Fortunately, I made it to her driveway without a dent or scratch to the new car. Once back in the goldfish cracker encrusted interior of the minivan, I dug out my anti-bacterial cleanser and doused myself in it. If I could have taken a decontamination shower at that moment, I would've.

So now I'm paranoid. I feel like a ticking time bomb with an unreadable clock. I've moved from paranoid into freak out territory as I postulate new theories on whether or not one can contract the flu by thinking about it too much. Like reverse panacea engineering. That somehow if I miraculously didn't become infected, that my mind could just convince my body it had it anyway.

So now I have more paperwork to do on several different projects. I doubt my meager writing goal of finishing one new chapter on my wip will be a part of that. We'll see. I still have almost two weeks left to get it done.

I'm tempted to consult my Magic Eight Ball, but the answers I've been getting recently have been, shall we say, disappointing.

So any new adventures going on in your life? Lay it on me so I can take a break from all my TPS reports.