Blaming the Bug

Since Saturday, I've been enjoying the company of a cold. It isn't a bad cold. I can manage to make it through a workday just fine, but I can feel the symptoms coming on as the day winds down. By the time the sun is setting, all I want to do is go home, drink soup and tea, camp out under a blanket in front of the television and periodically medicate myself.

I mention this mainly as an excuse as to why I didn't show up for Wednesday's blogger gathering at The Coffee Society. I had wanted to attend for a round of laughs and lattes (especially the latte eustachio Elkit mentioned), but I was already in cafe-incompatible pajamas and planted comfortably on the couch before I remembered. I'll be making a concerted effort to be there in February.

As luck would have it, this bug arrived at the beginning of this past weekend's trip to Yosemite. We spent Saturday through Monday exploring the park in all of its winter glory. Yosemite under a blanket of white is a remarkable sight. All of my running around probably doubled my recovery time.

The dangerous thing about a cold that doesn't seem so bad is that a person may believe he or she can push through it, do everything as usual and still get well. With that attitude, a minor cold soon blows up into something major. I'm sensing that I haven't been taking this one very seriously because I can feel it coming close to becoming worse.

Ideally, the plan for this weekend would be to stay home and rest as much as possible. Unfortunately, I have a routine dentist check-up tomorrow morning in Santa Cruz. I would reschedule, but I'd rather get it done than put it off for however long. It will hopefully be short and painless so that I can race back home and spend the remainder of the day (and the day following) recuperating.