Of meds, Olligschlagers, and lullabies

Being sick sucks. Especially when the second bout of influenza hits you even harder than the first. Needless to say, it's been a bit difficult to "keep my chin up" both metaphorically and physically -- my body just seems to want to curl up in the fetal position beneath several layers of blankets. However, some close friends over the past few days have made valiant efforts to buoy me up.
Please meet the following.
David Olligschlager and Mother Olligschlager (not pictured). Supplied me with some needed homeopathic meds and good laughs. As well as an acoustic rendition of "Me and My Bobby McGee." My favorite part of the phone conversation with Dave's mom was when she was asking my symptoms, "Sounds like you've got a head full of snot, but what else?" It's nice to be around people who cut straight to the point.


Gretchen Rimmasch. This angel who keeps me in constant supply of gourmet gingersnaps, also happened by one day to drive me up to campus to one of my "unmissable" classes. This is not the first time Gretchen has pulled me out of a tight spot.





Brandon. Thanks for singing me lullabies by guitar. Sure, I didn't quite drop off, but I'm sure there was more you could have done with your evening. As a side note, how have we been friends this long and this is the only picture I have of you not stabbing something? Let's change that.







Mary and Sarah. Thanks for bringing me soups, juices, and driving me to the doctor. I also appreciate the morning check-ups at my door. What a joy you both are!





Ah, Jordan. Thanks for the promise of the new Fiona Apple CD. I'll keep waiting though, I know today's your big day. Congrats and say hello to Idaho for me! I'm still practicing that bass line.










Ani and Nathalie. What more can I say? Thanks for the meds, the G.I. tract talks, and so much more.




If I had a picture of Rob Stephenson and his brother I would post it here. Thanks for being an understanding boss and coming by after a long day at work to give me a blessing. You, my friend, and not Michael Scott, deserve a mug with "World's Best Boss" printed on it.