Thursday, February 24, 2005

Seek advice from an octogenarian

That's the advice that was given me by a fortune cookie today. Go ahead and look it up. I didn't know what the word meant either when I first read it.

The sickness I'd been eluding for the last three months finally caught up with me this week. It started as a foreboding tickle in the back of my throat Sunday night, progressed into a cough and a menacing headache on Monday and Tuesday and emerged to take my voice from me yesterday. So I spent the day at home alone, which I originally thought might be enjoyable, but instead made me realize how much I do enjoy the company of others. Somewhere around 6 p.m. I thought it necessary to practice my "hello" in case someone were to call me on the phone. The sound of my voice left me a little disturbed, both because I hadn't heard an actual person's voice all day and because I didn't sound like myself at all. All this made me even more disturbed because one shouldn't very well be disturbed by a voice, much less his own. So I determined before going to bed that I would be well in the morning. I got up this morning and willed myself back into the office, much to the dismay of several co-workers fearful for their own health.

It was worth it, if for nothing else to hear my co-worker Charlotte and her thicker-than-molasses accent. I've often commented to Rachel that I should make a talking bobblehead of this woman from the Deep South. In my head, whenever her wobbly head gets knocked she'll respond with one of her classic lines, which of course aren't meant by her to be funny but always succeed nonetheless. Today's best story involving Charlotte began with an obituary. Her stories usually always involve strange things like that.

The obit was a tad confusing because one date said the individual passed away on a Wednesday but later it said the funeral was held on that week's Tuesday. One of my co-worker's quipped that maybe the burial was actually what killed the person, and another remarked that perhaps a little too much preplanning went into the situation. These comments were amusing, but my weak lungs didn't start wheezing from laughing until Charlotte piped up with a look of wonder on her face.

"Ya know, one time I thot Alex Trebek had diiiied," which elicited a smile from me but silence and stares from everyone else. "Ya know, the man furm Jep-party? I went round and toad everyone that he was daid. Did it for weeks til someone tol me to turn on the tv, and thar he was, plain as day. I was shawked."

"What made you think he was dead," someone asked.

"Well, I dunno, but I sure thot he was daid," was Charlotte's only response as she turned around to go back to work.

I think I'm feeling better already.

Currently Playing The Coast Is Never Clear By Beulah