THE ANATOMY OF A COLD

I have been reading all of the posts on the 2011 projects in review written by you crafty gals and I am loving it. I never claim to be crafty, I can be a bit creative when I want, but a project for me is more like cleaning out a closet. And I can boast that my closets are pretty tidy. This little paper white guy was a project in a way; planting, watering, watching patiently. He's gotten bigger, but no blooms yet. I love anticipation. If I were a very creative blogger, I would have styled this a bit better. But it's rainy and gloomy here and the best light comes from the kitchen since Sir Douglas still blocks the big window in the living room.

So, what have I been doing with myself since I last posted? Absolutely nothing. I have a head and chest cold and I am spending every spare moment feeling sorry for myself. I was lying in bed yesterday afternoon staring at the jar of Vaseline on my dresser several feet away. I really needed it for my scratchy dry nose, but I didn't have the energy or desire to get up and get it. I made a mental list of all the things I needed and wanted; a box of soft Kleenex, the one with the aloe in the tissues for my sore nose. A big bowl of hot chicken soup. Someone to wash and dry all my PJ's because I am out of clean ones. Someone to clean my bedroom which still looks like Gift Wrapping Central. Some cough drops, hot fruity tea, a warmer blanket...it's just no fun to be sick alone.

I keep remembering the scene in You've Got Mail, where Meg Ryan is sick and Tom Hanks comes to her apartment. He sits on the edge of her bed while she sniffles and pours her heart out. Why can't we all look that good when we are sick? Meg looks adorable in her cute flannel pajamas, with her snappy little hairdo, mussed up just so...and Tom is clearly taken with it and oblivious to all the used tissues scattered about {probably the ones with aloe}. Now me...I haven't had a shower in 2 days, my ponytail has moved to the side of my head and most of it is sticking straight out, I'm in sweatpants because of my lack of clean PJ's and the bed is covered with dog hair. Worst of all, my NOOK broke. I was happily playing with it the other night {prior to catching this bug} and suddenly the screen went blank. I did all the trouble shooting I could and now I have no choice but to return it for an exchange, which I can't do now as they would frown heavily on a scruffy looking person with a red nose and crooked ponytail, coming in and sneezing on them. A book, a REAL book would never do that to you, I argued with The Husband, the giver of the Nook. A real book is loyal all the way to the end.
Layla and Milo do not have the dreaded bug, but they don't like me this way. Granted, they love to snuggle and nap as much as they can, they are getting a little bored with me. After being abandoned so carelessly by my Nook, I picked up the book I had set aside during most of busy December and finished reading it. {It's on my sidebar, one of Grafton's best}. As usual when I am reading a murder/mystery, my imagination gets a little wonky, so I had to get up, check that the doors were locked and close the drapes. It was evening by now, so I made a pot of coffee {although I was out of my French Vanilla Cream, that would go on my whiny list above} and settled in to read some blogs. If I left you a comment, it was probably very short and made little sense. Nyquil will do that.
The Husband finally got home from work at 8:00 p.m. By then I couldn't remember if it was "Feed a cold, starve a fever", or the other way around. I did know I was hungry, wanted to be fed and crawl back in bed. We settled on ordering from Sesame Inn which is wonderful if you are looking for comfort food. The hot and sour soup can clear out your sinuses with just one whiff alone. I settled on the Japanese U~don Noodle Soup...shavings of beef and onion in a broth with huge, long homemade noodles. Me and my tummy were in heaven.

So all was well in my world as I hunkered down back in bed with the dogs...still no soft tissues, paper napkins would have to do, and as long as The Husband didn't mind, I'd just sleep in my sweats with my ratty hair. :-)