I will tell you goddamned how- When you are covered in your own snot and the one you love politely points it out to you. That, my friends, is love at it's finest. But I am getting ahead of myself.
Let's rewind.
Last week, I was sick. And yes, before you even ask, I DID get my flu shot. Which was painful, not so much at first, but for three days after my effin arm was sore. But I get one every year. Because I work for a Drug Company so I support my business. And because it is free.
But flu shots don't cover sinus infections, who knew?
So last Sunday I started to feel icky. Monday morning, I looked and felt like death (thanks to B and everyone at work for letting me know just how awful I looked... much appreciated, really). I only made it through a half day of work before I caved and went home where I slipped on some pj's, took some cold medicine, and fell into an over medicated sleep. None of this did much to make me feel better.
Tuesday was B's birthday. I wanted so badly to be better. I got up and told myself that a shower would do the trick. I cleaned myself up, did my hair and make-up, and took the birthday boy out to breakfast. I was even a little dressed up. I wore my cute black dress coat with my grandma's broach and told myself that I looked good so I felt good. But my nose was still running like a leaky faucet. It was... gross. As we got out of the car to go into the restaurant I blew my nose for the fifteenth hundred time. I walked over to B to grab his hand and he started to laugh, sort of. Not like, at me, but more like, something-cute-happened-so-you-have-to-chuckle sort of a thing.
Me: (Looking around confused) What?
B: Look down at your broach (yes my man knows what a broach is! what up!)
Me: (More confused and now panicked that something awful has happened to my grandmother's broach) Huh?
...
Oh crap!
Apparently I need to be taught how to properly blow my nose because there was a long string of snot running down the front of my coat.
So much for looking good. But at least my man loves me.
