After working with kids (a.k.a. germ mongrels) for years and being
married to a guy who spends more time in hospitals than anywhere else, I
would have thought that by now I'd have contracted and subsequently
developed an immunity to every cold/flu virus on Earth, but those
bastard viruses keep mutating and attacking.
And I am not one of
those people who handles being sick well. I don't get little sniffles
and carry on. My eyes water and swell until they're red and half-shut.
It's hot. Really.
So that's what happened and I've been a whiny, drippy mass of ick for the last few days and not been
productive at all, which makes me angry because I really really wanted
to finish the first Hope Cove book by the end of this month. Looks like
that probably won't happen, but c'est la vie.
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