Common Colds ≠ Interesting. But I Don't Have To Write About Anything Of Importance! Ha, Ha!

My Sunday went along the lines of:

Mbfmmbgfzmmbfd.... Wonderful Husband lets me sleep in so I can dream I became a member of Congress and for some reason a lot of pancakes are involved.

Wake up.... Hey, I’m awake.

Go to church, come home.... Yay! I did things!

Eat lunch.... I’m on a roll!

All of a sudden.... Hmmmm....kinda sleepy.

Then.... Baby gets sleepy.  Idea!  Hold baby = work.  But then I can sleep = sleep.  Therefore work = sleep.  I’m a GENIUS!

Then.... Baby and I wake up.  Why am I awake?  More important, where is my face?

Hmmm.... Breathing hurts.  Walking hurts.... Owie.

Make supper.... I’m walking around like a short mucousy Ent.

After supper.... Weeeee........I’m magic!.........Illness has transplanted my brain to a whole new level of thought and time! I should blog!  And fold laundry! AT THE SAME TIME!

Kids are in bed.... I try to fold laundry.  It’s all crooked because I’m too dizzy to see straight.  I decide to blog instead.  For some reason, it’s really important to post something, even though my line of thought consists generally of “Husband - umbrella - cookie - help me - kitty cat - sparkly - leprechaun - i am writing now like a good writerrrrrrrr.....bmnkihf........ugcfxtd.”

Later.... I publish this gem, gulp down several Nyquil along with my usual sleeping pills, and head to bed. Promptly have disturbing lucid visions every time I close my eyes for the next three hours, before I actually fall asleep.

Monday.... Wake up to find I’m still alive.  Weird.

More Monday.... The fog encircling my head still won’t lighten up. I am more mucous than woman.

Even More Monday.... Things happen.  Probably.  Because it’s now Tuesday.

Today.... Realize I don’t remember anything about Monday.  The mucous ate my brain. Determine mucous = zombies.  Or maybe zombies = mucous. Doesn’t matter, because according to this, I only have a 31% chance of surviving a zombie apocalypse anyways.

More Today.... Will head to a medic post-haste, if only because I’ve had a routine physical scheduled since October. Understand they can’t rescue me from this viral 5th layer of Hell, but at least I can complain to a professional.
 
Slightly More Today....  Published this post chronicling my experience with the common cold.  Realize it might be poignant or interesting or something if I was actually living with something more serious, like cholera or ummm... bipolar depression.  But no.  I just have a cold.

Cough, hack, cough. The end.