GIVE UP AND GIVE IN

Today is day six of the full-on attack of my head cold, except it has decided to move and is now starting to occupy my chest, as well.  Just like every other morning this week, I need about three hours to get myself up and functioning at marginal capacity.

I have errands that need to be run, so I start with the hardware store where I buy a new canister of propane for the grill.  The weather may hold out, and, if it does, I might BBQ this weekend.  My next stop is to Staples to get two different strengths of Velcro/Scotch fasteners that I plan to use juryrigging my difficult-to-fasten snowshoes.  My last two errands are wine tasting and shopping at the grocery store.

Half of the registers at Staples are broken, so the line is long.  This makes my later plans for grocery shopping and wine tasting fall behind. I get to the wine tasting (I need prosecco for OJ ... for my cold, right?), but my daughter texts me before I can get to the store.  She needs a ride to a pub to meet some friends with whom she used to work.

Once we get to the pub, I debate having a drink.  The draft beer arrives, and it smells funny to me and tastes funky, but it is because with this cold I cannot really smell nor taste anything at all.  I could be sniffing the inside of my brain at this point, so I switch to soda. 

After two sodas, I start to lose my energy level and wander out into the dark night to my car.  I consider going to the store to do my final errand of the day, but it's so dark and a little windy and I feel so tired.  It must be close to bedtime. I crank the heat in my car, put on the seat heater, and drive home.  Is it bedtime?  It must be bedtime.  I am so very tired.

It.  Is.  Barely.  6:45.

Okay!  I give up!  I give in!  After working all week, running conferences for two nights and one afternoon, and running some errands, my body is giving up on me.  No mimosas tonight, I suppose.  I make some tea instead, get into my pajamas, and snuggle in to watch the rest of the Psych marathon, a box of tissues and a handful of cough drops securely attached to my side.