Actually, there is no party. My birthday has been postponed eight days to next Sunday. Rotten flu. I’m feeling a lot better. I was up to having a shower and getting dressed today but I’m not up to going outside. I’m up to eating real food, e.g. Cake but not up to having five rambunctious and loud grandchildren over for a couple of hours. I no longer require 13 hours of sleep per day. I find 11 to be quite sufficient. I look forward to going back to my normal seven to eight hour nights. There are a couple of things I am itching to get to but know I cannot do without inviting a relapse. One is washing the living room window on the outside. Apparently, when I washed the paintball paint off, the night of the attack, I only managed to smear it around. The other is grocery shopping. DH has eaten most of the food in the house and only replaced a few items. Of course there would be even less food if he had been feeding me as well. A few nights he made himself fish sticks and a baked potato. He did offer me his leftover Campbell’s Cream of Chicken soup one night. The tasty scent of his toasted whole grain bread wafting down the hall just about made me cry. It’s like someone told him, years ago, “Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m sick?” (I’ll bet it was his mother.) and now he thinks if someone is sick he must leave them alone. OK, my pity party is over now. I do have a few gifts and cards that arrived in the mail this week, which I will open tonight. If there is enough milk I’m going to make some homemade cream of broccoli soup for dinner as I don’t think I’m still contagious but if he would rather, there are a few fish sticks left in the freezer.