On being home ill...

It started last night as I lazed on the couch watching Glee. I guess it really started earlier this weekend but I successfully ignored it for as long as possible. This morning I woke up and the undeniable feeling of full on fatigue was crushing me. The feeling of constriction in my chest and heaviness in my muscles was so profound I was actually dreaming that I was under the boot of some large figure like a a giant. I would blame my daughter who had something similar earlier this week but seriously, work feels like a cesspool and germs right now and people are dropping like flies.



Yes, I did jump into the Columbia River on Saturday for the Polar Plunge but I didn't go under and I was in the first hundred or so 1000+ plungers so I don't really think that was it. Besides that was far too fabulous and fun for me to incur this malady there. A wonderful fundraiser for Special Olympics Oregon, it has only been around a few years but the Plunge is quickly becoming one of my favorite Portland events.


Back to taking a sick day. Kieran texts me a few minutes after he leaves the house to let me know it's snowing today. Crazy. I thought snow was something reserved for the mountain and back East this year but there it was. Lovely. A lovely day to be home. Even if I feel like crud, I can still enjoy a toasty blanket, some tea and my latest issue of DRAFT. I really do like this magazine. It's sharp, informative, entertaining. In spite of it's awful awful problems with distribution, it's still one of my favorites.

I'm big on food and drink focused entertainment, literally. Read a post from Paula Deen and seconds later I'm in the kitchen. Watch a little Man vs. Food and I'm Googling where to get the best Cubano sandwich in Portland. (Right now I say Bunk although I hear Panbiche's version kicks Porkbutt as well) but I digress...

which is usually what happens to me when I'm home alone. I take an ample dose of cold medicine. I lay on the couch to read or watch tv, suffer from restless leg syndrome, move to the computer to Facebook stalk my friends, read some blog posts from Sojourners, NPR or Ode and find myself motivated to post. Although the Dayquil/Nyquil buzz is leaving my thoughts too scattered to produce anything really meaningful and my fingers too sleepy to type without having to go back and rewrite a few lines over and over again, I plod on.

Perhaps I'll head back to bed for a bit.