I’m a daisy if I do.

I really did have plans to write some things this week. I had a schedule and everything. But sometimes plans fall by the wayside when you are hit by ZOMBIE DEATH SICKNESS.

SICK SICK GROSS AND SICK

Fine, I just had a really terrible cold, but I do so like to exaggerate. It’s just about all I can do, as I am stranded on my couch surrounded by Dayquil bottles and used Kleenex and the sad, sad sounds of hacking up a lung. Which, by the way, Dumbcat does NOT approve of. They are loud and they disrupt his 20 or so hours of sleep a day he seems to need. How do I know he sleeps this much? Because we’ve been hanging out a lot over these past few days, and he’s not at all amenable to my pleas of “OMG PLEASE JUST GO GET ME SOME ICE CUBES WHY ARE YOU THE WORST?” because he’s too busy sleeping. SO MUCH SLEEPING. Why do I have a cat if when I feel icky he won’t get me ice cubes or more Kleenex or soup? Oh, because he’s my best fuzzy little guy and I love him? Fine. That’ll do. I guess.

So, yes. I have been struck low by a cold. I’m fairly sure it’s just a cold. It’s not the flu. I had that last year and I thought I was dying. Plus this year I totally proactively had the flu shot and everything. Some sort of crappy cold that seems to have settled into my lungs. I woke up Friday night coughing and haven’t stopped since. I also have had a fever, a nose that won’t stop running, I’ve lost my voice on and off over the past few days, and this morning when I woke up I was all dizzy. Dad keeps telling me I’m a lunger like Doc Holliday in Tombstone so I keep telling him “You’re a daisy if you do!” and he says, “I got two guns, one for each of ya.” We like Tombstone quotes, we do.

I’m your huckleberry.

Being sick when you’re a grownup is NO FUN. Well, it’s not fun when you’re a kid, either, but at least then someone brings you soup and things. When you’re a grownup you can (well, hopefully) take a little time off work and sleep, but you still have to get up and get yourself the soup and the tissues and such because the cat just WILL! NOT! DO! IT! FOR! YOU! Even though he TOTALLY has thumbs, so you KNOW he could get me things if he just WANTED to. Sigh.

I also had to do things over those sick days. Christmas is coming and if I just sat around on the couch sighing and such, Christmas would not arrive on time. SO! Over the past four days, when I’ve been running a fever and coughing like a TB patient, I:

went to five different stores (as well as various places online) and finished my Christmas shopping (as well as did grocery shopping and TOTALLY bought myself the best purse ever…I couldn’t even help it. I needed a new purse and it’s gorgeous and it smells richly of leather. SWOON.)

It looks sort of like this but a little darker brown and I LURVE it.

wrapped approximately 47 billion gifts. Give or take. I mean, I didn’t count, or anything.
packaged up the gifts that had to be mailed (except for the three that I can’t finish because I haven’t gotten the stuff for them in the mail yet.) Lots of brown paper. Lots of packing tape. Lots of addressing.
went to the post office. Stood in a line that stretched out the door. Was at the window for forty-five minutes because it takes years and years to mail anything overseas because I assume we might be terrorists? I don’t know.
And, just in news of OMG, this morning I called out of work and when I went back to bed, I slept until ELEVEN A.M. Without even moving. When I woke up I was all, “how is it 11?” and “do I eat breakfast or lunch WTF?” and “people sleep til 11? This seems suspect.”

Now I am going to go to bed because I need to get up early tomorrow and sneak into work and carefully put my Secret Santa gift onto my recipient’s desk before they get into work. The first day went well; yesterday I had a top-secret plan and had my boss put it on their desk for me; tomorrow it’s up to me again. I am not saying who my Secret Santa recipient is. THAT IS WHY IT IS SECRET. But I am giving this person a very, very good Secret Santa year. (So far as my own Secret Santa gifts I’ve gotten lotto tickets, and I won nothing. But that’s par for the course for me with lotto tickets. I swear tickets could be winners, and I’d touch them and POOF! they would immediately be losers. I have bad lotto-ticket mojo. However, when I GIVE lotto tickets, like as gifts, people tend to win. It’s strange. I have personal-loser gift-winner mojo.)

I should, hopefully, be back one of these days with actual content that’s not OMG I AM HACKING UP A LUNG related. I mean, how long can a cold last, right? Urgh.