A nitwit liked the loud noise

Shortly after writing yesterday's blog entry, I started feeling a little queasy. This so rarely happens to me, and it was so subtle, that I thought I was imagining things, and continued to work on the Sunday crossword.

Yet, within a half hour, it was bad enough that I thought I might lie down for a moment to see if it would pass. An hour of chills and nausea after that, I was virulently vomiting in the most spectacularly disgusting way. Throwing up has to be the grossest thing ever.

And guess who cleaned it up? Not me. Last night taught me that true love is not about hearts and flowers and chocolate. It's about cleaning up someone else's puke, without complaining. This man is my hero.

I must have reacted to something in our lunch, as I immediately felt better, besides a few hours of lingering shakiness, my body wondering what on earth had just happened to it. The Mister ate the same thing as me, of course, so we can't quite figure what it could have been.

Today I woke up ravenous, due to avoiding any food all of yesterday evening, so I know I am back to my usual state of right as rain. Except for a cough hanging around from the cold I had a few weeks ago. This always happens to me after a cold; the cough just won't go away, even for months.

This worries me because the Messiah concert is coming up this weekend and next, and it's rather difficult to sing when the urge to cough interrupts decent breath support.

Speaking of choir, I've been tapped to head up the fundraising effort for the next concert, in March. In order to break even, we have to get thousands in sponsorship money, even if it is a sold-out concert. Apparently because the concert is all-American composers, and I'm American, it makes sense that I would approach the American businesses and governmental entities in town, and try to get them to throw some money at us.

The problem with all of this is that I am so not a fundraiser/business savvy type person, and I am so lacking in "connections" that I might have been the very worst person to pick for this job. But I guess I can do it, if I can find the guts to make cold calls and ask people for money.

Hey, maybe I can find it in my genes somewhere. My father is a natural fundraiser, as he works for public radio. Asking for money is a big part of what he does, and as he would tell me, people with money are often looking for good ways to give it away. You are providing them with that opportunity.

Well, from puking out my guts to working up some guts, this has been a bit of a ramble. Apologies for Monday-morning randomness.

Today I am thankful for my true love, and for crossword puzzles. What else will cause you to grab your sharpened pencil and write, with a gleam of triumph, "Dip did dig din"?