Shingles, coffee, etc.

When I last wrote, I'd recently been diagnosed with shingles, and I opted to drown my sorrows in a warm chocolate cream (called lava cake at the Nasher Museum Cafe). It made for a nice-enough blog topic — a delicious, easy-to-make dessert that will impress friends and family.

But it wasn't a post that really reflected my life.

Just over three weeks have passed since The Scourge attacked (I spent two off of work, as I couldn't be trusted to do physical labor). And I've got to tell you, blog pickin's are slim these days. I just don't want to eat much.  Klonopin, Oxycondone, Gabapentin and Lidoderm patches will do that to you.

Truth is, I wash down the Oxy with a glass of Metamucil, take a deep breath before working with clients, and give thanks that my painful episode will soon end. Shingles hurts like hell but it goes away.

Which is why today's blog post photo doesn't feature a fabulous gratin or cake. Without The World's Greatest Fiance, I wouldn't be eating much at all (O is the Grilled Veggie King). But I would enjoy my coffee, as illustrated above. Each morning I break out the French press, grind beans, bring water to a boil, and settle down for a nice cuppa before heading out, prescription drugs in hand.

As you can see, I don't rearrange furniture for photo shoots, I'm having fun with the Hipstamatic App for the iPhone, and I treasure my mug from the original Peets Coffee and Tea shop in Berkeley, California.

My internist wants to know what's bringing my immune system to its knees and allowing the shingles to flair up. Hate to say it, but I think my upcoming nuptials may be to blame. Major decisions have been made but details remain, including the guest list (a point of contention). So I'm blaming The Wedding. Now I have to get better and balance my life. I get to marry my best friend February 25, and that's something to celebrate!