So, this rotten cold that reared its ugly head on Wednesday freakin' night is still whipping my butt, on freakin' Sunday, which means that instead of sitting ever so elegantly in my seat at the local performing arts center, preparing to be immersed in Mahler and Brahms, I am sitting in bed with Pickle on my lap hogging the thin stream of heat emanating from the tower heater and poking her flat nose into my book. I pride myself on an immune system of steel, fortified as it is with vitamins and selected supplements. Certainly the recent infusion of pumpkin pie hasn't compromised it? You think? Well, if I felt decent, I would fix myself something healthful, like broccoli. Anyway, if I had cancelled my date with a very sweet man yesterday only to wake up all healthy today, I would have been mega-angry. So, happy to still be hacking up phlegm and popping cold pills like M&Ms, in my sweats, with a Pickle on my lap.
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