I am supposed to walk out the door in fifteen minutes and I am here on the couch in my pjs still, listening to Christmas music and sipping a second cup of get-better tea.  It has finally happened.  My lovelies won.  They infected me with their not so lovely germs and my body is struggling this morning.  I smell like a giant throat drop.  My nose is starting to turn a lovely shade of red.

I was in denial Monday.  I blamed it on the window and the cold and so we ordered a humidifier.  I slept away from the window.  But here I am.  A sleepy, soggy mess who is banking on the mother of all naps this afternoon.

Down for the count.  Is it any surprise it's Wednesday?  Where are my Wednesday flowers?  And cookies?  Why does Wednesday always win?
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It is evening now.  I went to school.  I taught the lovelies.  I blew and blew and blew my nose.  I met the boy for lunch.  And then I opened the new bottle of NIGHTTIME medicine and I took a mother of a nap.

Netflix is functioning as my flowers.  Pecan cobbler as my cookies.  And I am pretty sure I just drank more vitamin c than is good for me.

The good news?  Tomorrow is Thursday.  And Thursdays are never as mean as Wednesdays.