Thag you bery buch.

I'm sick.

I took a bath-shower last night with my bathroom door shut, trying to breathe in the warm air. It was very pleasant. Problem is, when I'm not doing that, it feels like I'm breathing through a dense honeycomb in my chest.

I woke up this morning with a dry mouth that was glued shut at the lips. Disgusting.

Plus, there was a snowstorm last night. I slept in a little this morning just in case the office was closed. It wasn't.

I go out my front door, and the snowy wind blows my purse and tennis shoes in the air. My wallet falls out.

I struggled against the wind to get to my bus. It rolled away just as I reached the door. I hailed a cab.

I met with a coworker to discuss some items for my upcoming course. She got paranoid when I told her I was "a little" sick and demanded that I not touch a thing in her office. I felt like a leper.

Now it hurts to breathe. My ears ache. I'm sore. I don't want to be sick this week.

So there's that,

Laura

(PS - Do you know where my subject line comes from? A very famous character from a very famous book said this line when he had a cold. Other books from this author were recently made into a successful movie franchise.)