I hate being sick. (Then again, who likes being sick?)
I am home again, after waking up feeling even worse than yesterday. I tossed and turned for a while, but it seems impossible to ever get really comfortable when you don’t feel good to begin with, so I dragged myself out of bed at 9:30. And here I sit. Feeling a little bit better since brushing my teeth and washing my face. That stuff always makes me feel better.
It’s weird. I get colds on a fairly regular basis, but they usually don’t keep me home from work, and definitely not for two days in a row. I feel like I’m playing hooky. Actually, I feel like I’ve been attacked by one huge cold that’s been building up since November.
There is a guy mowing the grass by the bayou behind my apartment. It’s February. The grass isn’t long. I wonder why he is mowing.
