I'm taking just a teeny little break, a small hiatus if you will, from house stuff this weekend. Well, maybe not just house stuff. Maybe everything. See, I've been sick for almost a week with a cold. A cold that will—not—go—away. And every afternoon I drag my hiney out of bed and go to work because there's no one to cover my shifts, where I cough and sneeze politely into the crook of my elbow just like Kathleen Sebelius says we should and eat chicken noodle soup and wear many layers of clothing and shuffle along in my big fuzzy slippers (yes, at work) because I just—feel—yucky.
In three hours I'll be off work for four days. Usually this inspires me to make all kinds of house restoration plans. This week, not so much... Especially since a series of events collided in such a way that schlepping between bed and sofa all weekend seems like the best possible way to spend those four days. Judge for yourselves:
I bought the perfect reversible (pale pink on one side; dark rose on the other) comforter at Target yesterday.
I just discovered that many of the episodes of A&E's "America's Castles" are available to watch instantly on my laptop.
The guy I'm seeing (who I'll call Reed Richards because I am a Marvel Comics freak and, well, it fits him) instantly agreed when I declared that Sunday afternoons shall be Our Day Together with no phones, no responsibilities, and no one else.
The weather forecast is calling for cold, damp, windy weather all weekend, so I really shouldn't be outside ripping shingles off the house anyway.
WTB told me that the new book he just bought is so good that he read it straight through and is now loaning it to me.
My mom surprised me with a gift of pink flannel sheets.
I mean, really, given all this, stockpiling tissues and chicken broth and staying in my jammies for the next four days seems like the only reasonable thing to do, right?