I slept last night

I took an OTC sleep aid and got in over six blessed hours of sleep before I woke up coughing.  That's the most sleep I've been able to get in four days, and I'm thankful indeed.  
Some folks think I should go to the doctor, because this might be strep.  Well, strep usually runs its course just like colds and influenza.  I realize strep can be serious in children and young people because it can run into rheumatic fever, but how many old ladies have you heard of that died from strep throat or got rheumatic fever?  I'm taking care not to put anyone at risk of catching whatever this is; I was doing some necessary shopping at Walmart over the weekend and one of my favorite people from my favorite church called my name and came toward me with open arms, smiling.  
"Judy," I told her, "you don't want to be hugging me right now; I'm running a fever."  
She wisely stepped back and said, "Well, then, bless you; consider yourself hugged from a distance."  
I don't avoid doctors because of the expense; until next June I have Cliff's insurance plus Medicare, so I don't even have a co-pay.  I just hate to go and have them tell me to let it "run its course".  
Cliff goes back to work today after a three-day weekend, and it's a good thing.  That man does not know how to handle a remote!  When he retires, he and I are going to have to have a talk about television channels, DVRs, and remotes.  (Dear husband, don't take this personally; there was never a man born who knew how to properly use a TV remote. I think it has something to do with the Y chromosome.)  
Football season is almost over.  I'm not a fan, unless you're talking about the local high school games or the Kansas City Chiefs.  In the case of the Chiefs, I don't usually watch the games closely, but I always hope for them to win.  Most years, that is what you'd call hoping against hope.  Every Sunday I've been DVRing three football games so Cliff can watch them at his leisure and zap the commercials.  Last Sunday I told him not to waste his time watching the Chiefs; he took my advice.    
I remember when Cliff first became interested in professional football:  we had moved to north Missouri where we rented a farmhouse, hoping to become real farmers.  We lived there nine months, long enough to realize that you need to pretty much be born onto a family farm in order to have a real farm.  Although we were only a hundred miles away from this area, Cliff was so homesick, it may as well have been a thousand miles.  So in 1975 we came back and located where we are now.  But I digress.  
Cliff was so bored that winter in north Missouri that we went and bought our first color television set; up there in the boonies, only the St. Joseph channel came in really clear; seems like all the Kansas City channels were snowy.  
With color TV, Cliff could tell one team from another, and lacking anything else to do with his weekend time off work, he became an ardent football fan.  I occupied myself reading.  
One Monday night I got so annoyed with this one irritating voice coming from the other room, I went in and shouted at the television, "Oh shut up, you can of crap!"  (I really did say "crap", not a stronger word.)  
I thought Cliff was going to come unglued laughing at me yelling at Howard Cossel.    
Anyhow.  All I have to do now is record a bunch of playoff games on weekends; it will soon be over.  I will half-heartedly watch the Superbowl, just to see the commercials.  
Between commercials, I'll be reading my Nook.