At least that’s what it feels like.
Last week, I thought I was dying. Went to the doctor to find out I had an upper respiratory infection. Okay, I can handle that as long as I get a shot and some meds. I was a good girl. I took all of my medicine, which is unusual for me, and I rested. I didn’t overdo it or anything. Thanksgiving rolled around and I had a wonderful time.
The food was plentiful and good. The football games were plentiful and two of them were really good. I had big plans for Friday and Saturday. I have so many WIPs that need to be worked on, I promised myself (and my muse) that we’d sit down and churn out some serious numbers. Friday morning I woke up, had a cup of coffee, took a shower, put clean pjs on and went back to bed. I slept until 2 pm. Obviously I wasn’t going to get any writing done. It had to be some kind of post-Thanksgiving funk. I shrugged off the thought and enjoyed a day of laziness because Saturday it was on like Donkey Kong!
Saturday morning I woke up, groaned and heaved and coughed and sneezed. Ugh. I wasn’t going anywhere. Not even the store to pick up groceries for me and the animals. I rolled back in bed, certain I’d feel better by Sunday when I absolutely had to go to the store. No excuses.
Yup, still sick on Sunday morning, but I went to the store and bought sweets. Why? I have no idea, but when I got home I had cookies and doughnuts and ice cream. I wanted to eat all of it, while sniffling and sneezing over it, permanently claiming it all as mine. I didn’t of course, but I did eat a lot of bad stuff yesterday. And guess what? It didn’t make me feel any better.
Here we are an exact week after my doctor’s appointment and the cold still lingers. *shakes her fist at the fates* However, I did start writing last night after the Saints broke my heart by losing. Despite the sniffling, sneezing and cold sweats, I got a good word count in and I did it again this morning. I haven’t worked out since Thanksgiving morning and I feel awful for it, but there’s no way I can sweat with this cold thing going on without feeling as though I was back in the 1600’s and still believed in the four humors.
Yeah, it’s a miserable Danica you’re reading about today. But I did have lovely Thanksgiving holiday otherwise. I read a lot. I watched a lot of movies (hello, The Black Swan was fucked up!) and I cuddled with fat cat and needy dog.
How was yours?