A few weeks ago Todd came down with a chest cold (and, no, it wasn’t a case of the man-flu; Todd has to be one of the most easy going sick-people ever) and ever since I’ve been warding against coming down with it, myself.

I did less, slept more, took it easy, even took a day off to sleep off what felt like the onset of something over a week ago.

Didn’t work.

Friday I woke up with that tell-tale icky feeling in the back of my throat, a feeling that not only persisted but worsened during the course of the day. I had to go to the office since we were both shorthanded as well as a deadline to meet.

But I’m not writing this to complain; nope! I’m writing this to brag on Todd for being such a awesome husband.

By Friday night I was feeling pretty miserable and definitely wasn’t in the mood to cook. Unfortunately, I was at that place where I was quite hungry but absolutely nothing sounded good. In the end, Todd went out and picked up dinner from one place, a pint of coleslaw from a separate place (because it was the one thing that sounded good to my fiery throat), and frozen yogurt as well.

I spent the better part of the last 3 days in bed, moving down to the sofa in the early afternoons and pretty much doing as little as possible, in a cold-medicine haze. Because doing equals moving, and moving leads to coughing and all manner of unpleasantness.

As much as I hate getting absolutely nothing done these last few days, I have appreciated the opportunity to catch up on my hulu shows, Netlfix binging, and napping. But even I’m going a bit stir-crazy after three days of not leaving the house.

Back to reality!