I've been very fortunate this winter to avoid all the nastiness floating around in the air, or on my kids or out and about.
But it finally caught up to me. Proof lies in the pile of tissues next to me. I also feel like I swallowed a flaming porcupine ... backwards.
I came home from work early, had lunch and took a nap. When I woke up, my first thought was, "Crap! I didn't get anything done." The guilt sets in. I shift into turbo mode to try and catch up.
Why do we do that? I mean, good grief, we're certainly allowed down time when we're sick.
Why can't I get that through my thick head?