There's nothing fun about being sick ... or is there?

I'm so stoked. I'm finally vertical again. This morning I got out of bed to do more than just answer the call of nature, refill my tea cup or hunt for more tissues.

As is the case with most winters, this season there's "something going around" in the Washington, DC area. I managed to dodge a bullet last year; this time I couldn't get out of its way fast enough.

Since last Wednesday (January 5th) I've been nursing this miserable head cold at home. I felt like a caged animal -- intellectually ready to go out and do things, but physically unable to. I'm sure I'll have more understanding when I visit the zoo from now on ....

Being sick sucks ... for the most part.

On the upside, I got to lounge in bed all day yesterday, while Gary "waited" on me. But considering my general state of being -- with special emphasis on how each time I coughed I thought my head was going to explode -- I gladly would have traded in the personal butler service for sharp, clear vision; acute hearing and an overall feeling of alertness.

And since I'm so stuffed up, I've more or less lost my sense of smell and taste. Note to self: Eating is far less interesting when you can't smell or taste anything.

Fortunately, I haven't lost my sense of humor.

I was thinking about how to describe this weekend in the event that someone asked "How was your weekend?" and it occurred to me that it's been 48 hours of non-stop drinking (tea, water, juice, soup ...) and drugs (aspirin, Mucinex, Dayquil ...)!

Who says being sick can't be a party? Rock on!