I woke up feeling kind of stuffy-headed today. In truth, I’ve been fighting a cold, on and off, for the better part of a week. Kind of halfway between a mild and mildly annoying cold, and a full-on sinus infection. This wouldn’t be a big deal, except I haven’t been listening to my body, drinking enough water, or remembering to drink Eco-Drink (I much prefer Zeal, but Eco-Drink is $20 for a month supply, and Zeal is significantly more), or sleeping enough.
So this entry is perfunctory, and I don’t want you to think that I’m whining, because I’m not. I’m not feeling well, it’s my fault, and I’ll deal, and one of the ways I’m dealing is by writing this post to tell you that I’m not writing a post.
How very meta, I know.
Instead of writing a post, I’ve got cuddly dogs and a stack of good books, and I’m considering either cold meds or a hot toddy. The latter would taste better, but the former would not require me to leave the bed where the cuddly dogs are.
Yeah, I know.
Early tonight I ‘dealt’ by canceling plans to make a lovely meatloaf, mashed potato, and buttered carrot dinner, and instead we got pizza (Pineapple and Pepperoni, if you must know.), because sometimes you just have to admit that you’re tired and crabby and don’t want to cook.
Sometimes you suck it up and deal, yes, but sometimes, you cave, and order pizza.
Today’s Santa: He’s an ornament my mother gave me several years ago, and it’s hard to tell in the picture, but he LOOKS like foil wrapped around a chocolate Santa, only nicer. Every year, I have a brief flash of disappointment when I realize that there’s no chocolate inside, after all.