I want my mommy.

Clearly, I offended the gods of good health by thumbing my nose at the throngs of panicked people lined up for flu shots. For here I am, laid low by the vicious virus. I hate being sick. I don't really believe in it. Sick days are for skiing! But alas, I can barely hold my head up without feeling dizzy, so sliding down a mountain at high speed on a pair of wooden boards is probably out for me today.

Fortunately, I'm in a slow period at work while I wait for judges and opponents to take action in my various cases. I have one 10th Circuit brief to file soon, but I've gotten an extension and am well into my research, so a few days out of the office won't mean too much stress when I return. If I have to be sick, this isn't a bad week for it.

I don't get sick very often, but when illness does strike I am suddenly six years old, wanting to curl up in bed with hot tea and let my mommy take care of me. So when I called my mom this morning, she jumped instantly into Jewish Mother Mode, and within a couple of hours was on my doorstep with the makings of her delicious (vegetarian) chicken soup and a few other essentials. In the meantime, my computer had decided to join me in sickness, so I was feeling cut off from the world without e-mail and the 'net to keep me company. My mother, whose superhuman talents extend well beyond the kitchen, pulled open my CPU and poked around for a while, then made a few strategic phone calls, first to my fix-it-genius brother, then to CompUSA, where the tech confirmed my brother's diagnosis: my monitor was dead.

As technological difficulties go, a fritzed-out monitor is one of the easier and less expensive ones to remediate. While I crawled under a blanket in front of the TV, my mom zipped up to CompUSA, confirmed that the monitor was, indeed, beyond repair, and soon arrived back at my sickbed with a spankin' new screen.

I guess my needs are a little more complicated, expensive, and labor intensive than when I was six, but my mommy is still there to fill them for me!

Enough writing for now. I need to put my head down so the room will stop spinning, and then I need to eat some more of that delicious soup . . . .