Ever have one of those days where all you really want to do is go back to bed and heal. After our stay in Florida, my Sweet Husband and I we were given, as lovely parting gifts, sore throats to carry home with us. His sore throat is stationary with an accompanying lump and neck ache causing him mild grief. My special sore throat is slithering into my chest, creating spasms of somewhat dry hacking coughs. With my ability to take Vitamin I (Ibuprofen to you lay people) my symptoms are knocked to their proverbial knees gathering strength to knock me on my ass again. I lost count at 16, when a short time ago I was sneezing my fool head off. You know the kind, the kind of sneeze that is exhausting and leaves you motionless, garnering energy for the next go round. Something somewhere wants out of me and damned if I’ll stop it, I even got my special reinforced kleenex catchers mit designed especially for this type of cold. By doze is red and by voice is ras(pier than usual)and I cut out like a bad cell phone when I talk. Now I wonder how after a full chilly wet winter, with nary a sniffle, I have had TWO freakin colds in the last 3 weeks. It has to be the climate change and the airplane full of recycled air. I’ve talked to people in this area who were also at the same convention as I and they are sick as well. So I wanted to go back to bed…but no, I had to get in my car, and drive 3 hours south to Portland where I have ONE meeting tomorrow at 9am and then I can go back home. I glance up across this desk and see the hotel bed calling and cajoling me to come rest…I must obey…nightie night!