This Blasted Cold

Last night the cough I've developed kept me awake for a couple of hours. I went to bed around 10:15 pm, but was still awake (and miserable) at midnight. Of course, Newton was also doing his level best to keep me from sleeping: Licking my face, lying next to my head and pawing at me, getting under the covers, etc. etc. Not very helpful, cat! There's something to be said for Jefferson's reserved approach: He came to visit my head when I first lay down, then walked down and draped himself over one of my legs and stayed the contentedly.

At one point I got up to see if I had any cough suppressant in the place, but it turns out that what I had had all expired at least two years ago (if not five!), and I decided not to risk it. A bad cough is better than an upset stomach from expired medicine, I figure.

I did finally fall asleep, got a pretty good night's sleep, and woke up feeling, well...

I was actually feeling rather sweaty, which should have tipped me off that I was running a fever. Although one shower later than I felt much better and actually decided to go in to work.

I talked to Tom last night for half an hour or so, mainly to let him know that I'd gotten back okay and his obligation to feed the kitties was discharged. He told me that our team is trying to put something together this week and that apparently some of my stuff is not working. This motivated me to want to go in and fix it, of course.

So I ran some errands on the way in (like picking up cold drugs, and restarting my mail), and took a look at stuff. Well, everyone could tell that I was sick, and I think they were somewhat astonished that I'd come in at all. I put in about 2/3ds of a day, and managed to figure everything out (mostly it wasn't my fault; whee!), but finally I felt very run down, so I picked up this week's comic book haul and headed home.

I still feel quite crummy tonight. The cough comes and goes, but the congestion is as bad as ever, and I'm running through kleenex. (Good thing I have, like, eight boxes of the stuff in the house.) Bleah.

I've been sick now for almost a solid week. It's not funny anymore. I'm ready to be healthy again.

If it persists more than a couple more days, I'll definitely go to a doctor. I'd have done so already except that I feel different every day when I wake up, which is usually a sign that I'm working through the virus.

I've drunk enough water to float the titanic. I've probably had three quarts since I came home from work today.

I have a couple of half-finished entries from the end of my vacation to put up, but I don't have the energy to finish them tonight. Perhaps I'll finish them tomorrow, since I will almost certainly be staying home from work unless something miraculous happens in the next 10 hours. Well-wishes from sympathetic readers would not be refused...

Time for bed.