My holiday season had been bubbling along quite nicely. As you know, my company holiday party was Tuesday night. On Wednesday, Terry treated me to a pre-birthday dinner. And on Thursday, I went on a perfectly pleasant date with Mark.
Then it happened. Late Thursday night, I was felled by a vicious parasite. The resulting illness has overtaken my body and rendered me a coughing, congested wreck. This disease is so virulent and potent, it has paralyzed me. I am a miserable shell; a shivering, hacking wreck. All at the hands of a virus so malevolent it defies description.
Although, I believe, in the parlance of the vernacular, it is known as a cold.
After work last night, I was supposed to party hop from Tara's holiday cocktail celebration to Lucy's birthday soiree. And today I had planned a visit to the gym, followed by a pedicure and shopping for a birthday dress. Then back to work. Well, none of those plans have come to fruition. I attended no parties last night. I can't exercise (the horror!). My dress shopping and pedicure will have to wait, and I'm not even going to work tonight. I rarely, if ever, call in sick to work; so you know this is bad. Not that being exiled to my couch while succumbing to frequent coughing fits isn't fun, too.
Always one to find a bright side, I do recognize that this forced relaxation will allow me time to write my newspaper column, which is due Tuesday, as well as my Christmas cards, which should have been done two weeks ago. Of course, I haven't done any of that yet. But I have caught up on my television watching and my lack of sleep due to chest congestion. My Friends dvd box sets are providing me with some lovely company during this trying time. HBO has stepped up to the plate, as well.
Hopefully this will all be wrapped up soon, though. I have a birthday coming up on Friday, and I must be in top shape for that.