Sick

I was laying in bed, it was the middle of the night, and I heard the unmistakable sound of bagpipes wheezing out their last gasp of air. Now where in the hell could that sound be coming from I wondered? It was an unusually quiet night other than that. It was cold outside, in the fifties, so I had turned off the air-conditioning and all the fans. The only sound I heard was that wheezing, so I held my breath to see if I could hear what direction the sound was coming from. Nothing, the sound had stopped. It was when I started breathing again that it became obvious, it was my lungs. My lungs were making that horrible, wheezing, bagpipe sound.

Earlier this week I caught some kind of mild bug. A little scratchy in the throat, a little phlegm, and not much else. Apparently last night, it blossomed into something more. My throat is very sore, I'm sneezing, and my body is a bit achy. Not to worry though, I have a full bottle of Nyquil. So when I realized that I was playing 'Scotland the Brave' on my lungs, I got out of bed and took a big swig of the stuff. That was when I heard the potato chip bag in the kitchen rustling. Odd, I thought, what is Mark doing eating potato chips in the middle of the night? Except he wasn't. Mark was in bed, as was Sasha, and Chandler. Remember, it was cold last night, and on cold nights here in Florida the rats like to come inside for the warmth. They just aren't as hardy as their northern cousins. I went into the kitchen, screwed up some courage and started poking at the potato chip bag. Nothing happened. I poked around a little more, but still no rat. After a few more pokes I decided that I was just imagining what I had heard, and went back to bed. No sooner had my head hit the pillow and I heard the potato chip bag again. Thankfully the Nyquil was taking effect, and I was feeling the land of nod beckoning. So I just closed my eyes, and slowly drifted off to the sound of potato chips and bagpipes.