I settled in to watch the Lightning take on the Avalanche last night, and the Lightning didn’t fail to perform…by losing possibly the most games in a season in the entire history of the NHL. Chalk up another loss, 2-1, though I dozed off long before the controversial shoot-out. I was awake just long enough to see the Lightning’s usual trick of multiple players in glorified time-out (the penalty box), and long enough to start shouting half-heartedly at the TV, but eventually my lack of sleep and the lull of Nyquil won out and I fell asleep against Gary’s chest.
There are worse ways to spend an evening, eh?
This morning, behold! I can actually inhale and exhale without monumental effort, and I haven’t had the first choking spell from coughing lungs up yet. Could it be? Could I finally be shaking the death grip of this damn cold?
When writing about my illness is more exciting than writing about my hockey team…it is most certainly time to find a new team!