I’ve been sick this week. It’s nothing major, just the garden-variety head cold that seems to be going around these days. C and I spent a few days at a conference this week, and during most of the sessions I attended, I sat with my notebook in my lap, a nalgene on the floor, pen in my hand, and a scattered mess of used tissues all over the place, like a Kleenex bomb had gone off.
At one point, my husband asked me how I was doing. I responded by telling him that I could feel it moving down my throat, which he must have understood as me saying that the cold was moving from my head into my chest. Mentally, I did a double take and voiced silently,
“No, It’s moving down my throat”.
I’ll let you settle on that thought over the weekend. See you Monday.