There’s been a nasty little cold circulating through my family and extended family as of late. Apparently, the roulette wheel has finally stopped at my number. This is about the worst time for me to get sick. There’s just too much I need to do. There’s lots of good news to cover, lots of photos to take and lots of goodies hanging around the office to tempt our tastebuds. Christmas treats are pointless if you can’t taste them.
Not to mention I have yet to start my Christmas cards (although I did update my address book last week) and still have most of my Christmas shopping to do. Even of the presents I did buy, I’ve yet to wrap a single one. So I guess I’m just going to have to tough this one out.
I think the worst part of getting a cold it right at the beginning. I hate the achy, cold feeling of the body. And how is can go to too hot to too cold in a room without a single change in degree. I also hate the drippy sinuses that cause me to have a tissue right next to the keyboard at all times. And I hate how it hurts to blow my nose, and then nothing really releases itself from my irritated sinuses. It also seems as the body aches get sharper the mind gets duller. The head gets heavier and pretty soon you feel climbing out of bed is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.
Crawling out of bed is hard enough this time of year already. There’s just something not right about getting up when it’s still dark. Add a fever, sore throat and headache and you’ve got a cocktail for a sick day. With my fuzzy mind, I’m now even lost more than ever on the remainder of my Christmas list. Especially for the person I’m supposed to know the best: my husband.
Actually, I’ve got three special days to shop for him coming in the next two weeks. Our anniversary is next week. Christmas is the week after that, and five days later is his birthday. I think the problem, although he doesn’t call it a problem, is everything he wants is too darn expensive. A new truck, although he needs and deserves one for driving the ‘89 all these years, is $30,000, give or take. The cost of a milking parlor could buy him several trucks. Until recently I thought he got the combine itch out of his system since he bought a small, used one last summer. Then a few days ago he talked about upgrading to a size larger.
I guess I can’t really talk too much because my Christmas wish list has some awful big ticket items on it as well. The house is number one, followed by a new(er) car, computer, camcorder and a digital camera upgrade. That’s the problem with growing up, kids. The wish list grows up too. When it comes to needs and wants, I’m pretty good about knowing the difference. I’m sure Santa is as well, and I don’t think either of our lists will make the cut.
So forget Santa. I’m going to buy more lottery tickets. And some Nyquil.
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