Crud

I'm sick.

It's time to admit it. I got off the plane on Monday and felt fine. I slept well. I woke up on Tuesday and didn't feel fine but chalked it up to creeping crud from being trapped in small airplanes with ridiculous people. (She yelled at the counter attendant, she bitched and moaned aloud to no one in particular, she shouldered her way to her seat, she complained some more as we waited and she, seated OF COURSE directly behind me, coughed on me. It's all her fault.) I would drink lots of fluids, walk in the sun and feel fine the following day.

I did not.

But OK, one day, it's a cold, what the hell. Linger it may but after a day or so I'd start feeling better and all would be well.

Yeah, no.

Now we're on day 3 and it's time to admit that not only do I not feel better I actually feel worse. It's mostly in my throat, gunky, painful and Brenda Vaccaro-sounding but now it seems to be creeping upwards. What sort of stupid cold creeps up, I ask you?

My kind.

I don't get sick very often so it stands to reason that when I do it's tenacious. It was over  90 degrees yesterday and I drank hot tea all day. Doing it again today but the temps outside are cooler at least. Other parts of my many-pronged plan for recovery are as follows:

• Canceled movie going tomorrow (don't want to give this to anyone who is vulnerable).
• More tea.
• Advil.
• Salt water gargling.
• Emergen-C.
• Sleep.
• Leaving work early (which, frankly, I would have done anyway but I maintain that it also has healing properties).
• Devising a way to lie out all weekend and somehow have the sun beat strongly down just on my throat, but without harmful UV damage.

Cover your ears, now that I've admitted I'm really sick the whining is sure to continue both long and loud!