On the way there, this car once again proved my theory that a large percent of the population is dumb.
|If you buy this, you're too friggin stupid to be driving.|
Whoo-hoo! What a show!
We ate at Hooters. We walked the boardwalk. We bought some salt-water taffy. We roamed around the casino to look at the Christmas decorations. He gambled a bit. I lounged around. Then we had dinner--he had a really gross slice of pizza that had dough that was still raw and I had a very delicious crepe and I wanted ten more. More gambling. Then we came home.
|A view from our parked car|
|Cousin of Chuckie?|
|Windy but warm and bright!|
|I'm converting again|
|No, that's how you get casino cough|
|Art in Atlantic City|
|How Eddie appreciates art in Atlantic City|
|My winnings. Or should I say what's left of what I mostly lost.|
And that's how I stayed for the next ten days or so, on the couch, coughing and feeling shitty. I didn't have a fever yet I had chills followed by sweating (and my mom told me a few days later, Oh you had a virus. Thank you, Dr. Mom). I was one big ball of germs and I tried to keep it away from Eddie by washing blankets and spraying everything with Lysol including the air I was exhaling.
He got sick anyway, but only the sniffles and a headache for about half that time. Meanwhile, I was sweating and shivering on the couch, unable to even watch a movie full way through. Gross. Very gross.
On Christmas morning, we went to my parents' living room for fifteen minutes of opening presents. On New Years, we sat on the couch and I forced myself to take a nap while Eddie watched Riddick, a movie that should never have been made because it was very stupid.
I am finally back to normal with only a few days here and there of Omigod I'm relapsing scares. I don't think it was casino cough after all. Thinking back to the last day of the semester, I shook a lot of hands, conferenced with many many people in a small hot room. Basically, I sat in a petri dish for nine hours, and someone must have carried in something and in all that handshaking and paper exchanging, the germs won. This semester, there will be no handshaking and lots of Lysol. I don't think I'll lose my job if I spray down everyone who comes into the office. I'll have to check my contract.