The heat is on, and I'm writing this in bed, under the duvet, with a cup of coffee on my right and two snoring dogs to the left. Murphy is about six inches from the side of the bed, but I don't think he's likely to budge from his down throw on top of my duvet.
Sophie is attached to my hip.
They know it's cold, and they'll stay right here, thanks anyway Mom, we'll hold it. (Or in Murphy's case, not, but he won't pee in the bed.) It's in the low 40s this morning. It'll warm up to around 70 later, but right now, it's definitely chilly.
And I'm still sick. I'm improving, little by little, but this is the most stubborn cold I've had in a long time. It keeps morphing into new forms - the sore throat leaves and the sinus congestion begins, then that eases off and it becomes a cough, then whoops, sinuses are angry again...if it doesn't ease off by next week, I will have to see a doctor.
Why haven't I seen one yet, you ask? My new health insurance doesn't begin until December, which, fortunately, is just a couple of days away now. People who live in the rest of the world with single payer insurance may not realize that in the US most people get their insurance through employer-managed group plans, so if you leave your job, you lose your insurance, then there is a gap period (in this case 60 days, but it's often 90) before you are eligible through the new employer. I've been in that gap, but it's nearly over.
So I'd prefer to let this head cold from hell run its course, unless, of course, I start running a fever or showing some other alarming new symptoms. I'm improving, I think, just very, very slowly, and considering myself one of the lucky ones. My office is awash in strep throat, flu, you name it right now, and compared to that, a lingering nasty cold is just a lingering nasty cold.
So, Thanksgiving sucked - I was home sick on the couch, drinking tea and watching old movies and trying to nap between coughing fits. I watched an old movie I hadn't seen in years - The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Made in 1947, set at the turn of the 20th century, it has aged remarkably well. Gene Tierney's Mrs. Muir is a smart and capable woman who knows her mind, and the Captain truly respects her intelligence and autonomy (quite remarkable for movies of that or any time period). It's funny and touching and a bit of a tear-jerker, and that last scene gets me every time. Sigh...
Of course, watching it this week, I couldn't help thinking how it really was utter fantasy - imagine an author writing a single book and living off the royalties in comfort in a house by the sea for the rest of her long life!
So I'm halfway through my glorious 4 days off, and despite being sick, I've accomplished a few things. Online Christmas shopping is the best thing ever, IMHO. I'm more than halfway through my list, and I've saved a ton of money. (Commercial: If you shop online and haven't signed up for Ebates yet, do it. There's a link in my sidebar, I think it still works. The rebates are like found money, and they do add up.) I am purging old things, simplifying, organizing, and decorating. Today's goal: the tree.