Thoughts while Traveling

I am battling a cold. For a few days there, I was losing... or more accurately, getting my arse whupped. "Whupped," what a southern term. Notice that I did try to validate it as an acceptable word by adding the "h" after the "w." Because "whipped" is a proper word- I don't know that "whupped" is. Proper diction aside, I have a cold. I also have a wife for whom I feel sorry for. We, being married and on good terms, share a bed. And while I hope I don't make her ill as well, I was very much aware that she was in the bed with me last night. Not in the annoying "move over I need more room" kind of aware- but the good appreciative aware. I was very much aware that I was not alone. Being sick can be one of the inexplicably loneliest times one can experience. Maybe it's because no one knows exactly how you feel. Maybe it's because when we were young, hopefully someone cared for you when you were sick. Then, as we grow ... let's say older not up, you have to go it alone. You have to heal thineself- which always takes longer.

All in all- I was very glad to not be alone.

And then I had a dream where my wife and I were having an intimate moment but had to stop because there were Nazis in the yard and my wife had to go kill them herself because I was still sick. I gave her my rifle and she was off. Unafraid, I might add. She was up as if going to do some nagging task. As one would go if they forgot to turn the thermostat down before bed. That's my nazi-killing girl!