Well, at least it’s not coronavirus (I assume that if it was enough of a coronavirus to be dangerous I’d be on my butt instead of typing this). I’ve accordingly bundled up, eaten comfort food, and will be avoiding touching other people for the rest of the day. Guess this is a bye day, huh?
I seem to have gotten a mild case of pinkeye. Not dangerous, but inconvenient as all get-out and whatnot. So, um, nobody lick your screen or anything while you’re looking at my site, OK?
…I’m going to the doctor. One day is whatever, two is annoying, three might be a throat infection or something. Or maybe walking pneumonia. That typically sucks wind.
The coughing has begun. Fortunately, these things progress. I should be all right by Saturday or so. Sleeping a lot helps.
Going to get some sleep.
[UPDATE] A two and a half hour nap helped a good deal, but I’m definitely coming down with a cold, alas. But, hey, somebody upped their pledge, so I even did creative work this evening. Win!
Freaking pinkeye. Two days before a trip, too. I may have to send the family along ahead for a day and come when I’m hopefully no longer contagious — and no, that’s not a blessing in disguise, either. This is a vacation that my mom’s wanted us to all do for almost a decade. There are wild horses and the beach and a Viking longboat and aunts to wrangle the children while my wife and I have a beer or three. I want to go to this. I just need not to be contagious for it.
Shuffling zombie today because the antibiotics are knocking me out. Or it may be the lack of sleep, because I got very little last night and not very much this afternoon. I am getting better, but this is not fun. I foresee much more in the way of exercise when I feel a little better; this is getting ridiculous.
…and I believe that the subtext there was So go to bed, you idjit. Or maybe it’s my subtext. Certainly at the moment I can’t think of a single interesting thing to say.
PS: Yes, if this keeps up I may have to go to the doctor’s. I figured that one out already. We’ll see after a proper night’s sleep.
Ah, the hot-weather colds. First the youngest, then me, then my wife, and now my oldest. I suspect that none of us are going anywhere tomorrow. I’m going to put up the latest microfiction on the rotation and go back to bed.
…I don’t know if you can catch this cold via the computer, but I don’t want to risk it. I’m going to go back to bed now. Getting older sucks.