The Lost Weekend

I don’t get sick often — typically a once or twice-a-year head cold, maybe a cough or a raspy throat that gives me a cool voice. This weekend, though, the collective crud caught up with me. When I went to clear my throat late Friday night, my lungs made a deep, croupy growl that told me that something was up. By Saturday, I’d called off my long run, knowing that I was going to be spending the day close to my bed. It’s a pretty mild case of whatever it is, but I’ve just felt better when I’ve slept, and so that’s what I’ve done, sleeping about 10 or 11 hours a night with a nap during the day. Not how I planned to spend my three-day weekend, but I’m glad we didn’t have any plans we had to cancel.

Now it’s Monday night, almost time to go back to work, and I’m feeling considerably better. Maybe that’s the Kirkland NyQuil talking, but, for now, I’ll take it. Hoping for a quick bounce-back tomorrow before a short, very cold, workweek.