Bacon came down with a cold the other night. She was wheezing all over the place, nose making a break for it in the form of snot, kept waking up because she couldn't breathe. Lovely.
Yesterday, it got my husband.
Today, it got me.
Completely inconvenient. Not only do I just hate colds on principle, but I sing in two choirs at church. I have three rehearsals and two concerts next week, aside from my usual two Sunday Masses. A cold isn't just icky: it's career-impeding. And have you tried to buy any good cold medicine lately? Freaking tweakers ruined it for everyone else. I have to sign away Bacon just to get some Sudafed.
Ah, well. At least the snow started. Not much more fell while I was sleeping, but it's steadily coming down now. I knew as soon as I planned to drive anywhere, it'd pick up. I must be psycho.
Psychic. Psychic. Yeah, that's the ticket.