Ancient Chinese Secret

I've found the solution to the work/life-slash-life/blog balance issues everyone is trying to figure out. Ready? The answer is simply this - don't update your blog. 

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I got sick three and a half weeks ago, one day after Jim got sick, and up until this Monday, we were both more or less useless. I couldn't stay awake for more than 30 minutes and he was coughing so hard for so long that I started to smell his clothes for meth. I feel as though three solid weeks without a moment of rest from illness is unreasonable really, especially when it hits both of the adults in the house at the same time but leaves the children more or less unscathed. I'm pretty sure this virus we have is the reincarnation of Mao, doing his best to knock off the remaining adult intellectuals so he can take over the world. 

Or, you know, it's the 2013 version of Bruce Lee's samurai demon coming to take our asses down because Jim keeps telling his gwai lo girlfriend all the ancient Chinese secrets.

Secrets like this one.  

Ancient_Chinese_Ramen_Secret.png

You think you know ramen, but you don't know ramen. THAT is ramen. That is ramen with chunks of vegetables in it, ramen that burns when you eat it because you aren't supposed to know about this ramen. You're supposed to be eating the ramen you bought in the styrofoam cup at Wawa. This ramen is secret. It's sacred. (It's Korean.) It's amazing. It's like two dollah or something at Ranch 99. 

It's also the only thing that will make you feel better when you contract a raging sinus infection three short days after the 3 1/2 week pox was lifted off of your house, and I'm pretty sure now you have to tell someone about it or a creepy little girl will melt your face off in seven days. (Wait. that's Japanese. Shit.)