Whatever my kids had a couple of weeks ago, I finally managed to catch it. Spent the last few days coughing and sniffing and bitching, not necessarily in that order.
Amazing how fast the place goes to hell when I’m sick. I mean, my house is never going to make the cover of Better Homes and Gardens, but I do try. Most of the time the bed is made, the laundry is done, and the kitchen counter is reasonably tidy. But let me be too sick to do basic maintenance for a few days, and suddenly nobody has clean clothes and there are dirty dishes piled up next to the sink and overflowing onto the stove. At least this proves I do things during the day, when I’m not sick.
Generally, as I’m starting to recover from such an illness, I reach a point where I’m still too poorly to do much work, but starting to feel well enough that it bothers me the work isn’t getting done. So I’ll keep trying to go tidy things up, and my mate will keep herding me back to the
couch so I won’t overdo it. From the couch I’ll bitch and moan about all the little chores that I really need to get started on. He refers to this as the Pain in His Ass phase of my illness.
Hopefully the current cold will be gone by the weekend so he won’t have to kill me.