Despite my confidence yesterday morning that I was healthy- as the day progressed, the symptoms started arriving. By the end of the workday, I was feeling pretty miserable, with my sneezes and my sniffles and my throat-awareness and my headache and the tired. After work, I went over to the home of psychephage, where the boy made a lovely meal and served me tea and gave me medicine and didn't complain when I snuggled my germy self into his warm bed while he did productive things like folding clothes.
Today, despite waking up full of awfulness, I dragged myself out of bed. Once under the hot hot shower, I felt slightly better. Well enough to get myself to work, anyway. So here I am, armed with orange juice, tea, honey, cough drops, sudafed, and instant oatmeal. And replying to every cheery "How are you?" with a hearty "Ehhhh . . . "
Oh well, I'll survive. And there are a couple of places nearby that serve pretty good soup, so I have a mission for lunchtime.