Sick again... again

The moral of the story for 2016 continues to be: when I set perfectly reasonable personal goals for myself to kick off my year, I will end up being sick more times in the first month and a half of the year than I've been in ages.

It feels like the first month and change of this year have been a whirlwind of activity punctuated with feeling like dog poop that's turned white and covered with decaying leaves.

So I will not be gushing about what a fantastic job my husband did on Valentine's Day for me, especially considering we had not discussed anything at all beyond 'let's grab a pizza and watch a movie at home'.

I also will not be bubbling over about relatives coming to visit from near and far.

And there will be no child's level of delight over going to visit THE mouse's kingdom last week or the momentous expensive decision to get annual passes for the first time in my life.

I've written squat. This vexes me greatly.

I've read very little. Focusing on books when my eyes are watering and head feels like concrete isn't happening.

Coffee consumption is piss poor.

I did sprinkle one of my theme park visits with a bit of foreign language. I'll consider that a teensie, weensie win.

And whatever else I was keeping track of, well, tough cookies.

This is me putting a pin in things until I can make something semi-cohesive later. After my sinuses drain and my coffee intake is on the rise.