This is not about my thumb

My face hurts. (Yes, I know the old joke.) It hurts me, my face does. On the left side. I believe I have a sinus infection. I have been struggling with it for a few days now, trying to deny it, trying to just carry on. But today it really hurts.

I could mention the other ways I have of knowing this is a sinus infection, or believing it, but that would border on gross.

I suppose I could call the dr, but I hate doing that.

"Oh, you'd better come in." I can hear her little voice right now. But, of course, I don't want to go in just so he can tell me what I already know and charge me for it.

Wow, not a good attitude. Mine.

Anyway, after I finish eating the apple I just bought, I'll go up, take a bath, maybe take something--like aspirin--and climb into bed.

By the way, the apple I'm eating is a Jazz. Never heard of it before today. Don't know what they've put together to make it, but it was grown in Washington. Doesn't that automatically make it good?

Well, there you have it. A sinus infection and a Jazz apple.

Or there I have it.

* * *

It's after seven. I didn't do what I said I would do. Instead I ate, I read, I walked 31 minutes on the treadmill. I know. Thirty-one minutes is not much at all, but it's better than nothing.

Now I'm going