And I’m not talking about the Led Zeppelin song.
No, I’m talking about the fact that I got sick over the weekend. I had written on Friday morning that I had a nostril that was clogged up, but I wasn’t feeling sick. Then around 6pm that night, oh lord, did I start feeling sick. I was running a low fever and I just crawled into bed, and didn’t come out.
The one good thing about being sick this time around was that I got caught up on a bunch of tv shows that I had been putting off. The downside is pretty obvious; I felt like shit cuz I was sick.
Starting Sunday, I began to feel better. I was able to watch Tottenham and the Cowboys win their respective games that day, so I was in a pretty good mood.
But today was a working day, and I had to do my fatherly and husband duties, and it was pretty rough. I feel better than I did on Sunday, which means I am improving, but as of this moment, I just really want to go back to bed.
But no. I am on the couch writing while the kid is doing her homework. I need to walk the dog soon, and then I need to make dinner. Nope, I gotta keep going and around 9:30pm is when I will have a chance to sit and relax and quickly fall asleep on the couch.
I am a bit surprised that I got sick. I had a cold not too long ago, which meant that I hit my one cold a year quota. The kid hadn’t been sick, nor the wife, so I am a bit perplexed on how I was infected. See, I had a bit of time in bed on Saturday to think about how this could be the cold that kills, and I wanted to know how I acquired it; though they say you never hear the one with your name on it.
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