Get the weed eater

For all of you out there who have also been run over by the sick train, I'm sorry, this sucks. I have finally stopped hacking up a lung, but as I lay napping, I was startled by a strange rattling noise (apparently, the sound I now make when I breathe). Hopefully that will abate soon and I am actually thankful to not have a job at the moment. At least it gives me time to get back into fighting shape before someone calls me back (please, someone call me back?). 
The time between being interviewed and being called back, or not called back, is the worst. My brain is wandering laps around the doom box and I'm just trying to keep it together as I listen to myself wheeze. I have attempted to clean off the coffee table, but at the moment it is only half done as I had to take a break for a wee nappy. Like I said, hopefully this is the end of the track and I'll be getting off this train soon.
I have been released back into the wild and can return to the gym! As soon as I can get up off the floor. I really want to get back in the pool, but they frown on coughing fleghm into the water and I really need to mow my legs. Every since the surgery, I haven't really seen the point. I've only recently regained the ability to bend over at the waist and it's been cold out, so this is going to be like the time we went on vacation and it rained a lot and we came back to two feet of grass and wild life. Tricky. If you don't hear from me, assume I'm still lost in the amazon. Tootles.