I never used to get colds. I have one now, though, and it's a doozy. Coughing, sneezing, stuffy head, runny nose, sore throat and that weird feeling like your eyeballs might melt. And I can't even enjoy it, because we're about to have weather. The midwestern kind you need to be aware of and plan for. This is a most inopportune time to be sickie-poo.
There's a big angry arctic front bearing down on Nowhere, Illinois (I blame Chicago and Rod Blagojevich for this, by the way). Starting tonight, and lasting through Wednesday, we're expecting freezing rain, ice, sleet, howling winds, ice again, more sleet ... repeat as necessary. Ev is working this weekend so this means that today I need to be battening down the hatches. My "to do" list includes filling the utility room with firewood, making sure we've laid in enough cat food, dog food and duck food (the 50 pound bag of corn is in my trunk), securing the severely depressed ducks in their dome and spreading more dry straw for them, stocking up on coffee and cigarettes in case we can't leave the house for a couple of days, and doing a zillion things that require me to be out of my jammies, off the couch and out in the cold, windy world.
I don't wanna.
The days are wicked short, and since I slept until noon (thank you, Nyquil) I have about three hours to get it all done before it's dark again.
So much for a gay lifestyle of irresponsible wanton hedonism.