Somewhere between Geoffy's cold (which he apparently brought with him from his previous trip to Mexico), and all the sick kids at Chris's school, I've come down with a weird cold. I managed not to catch Chris's gross Stomach Plague, and then caught a cold immediately, in true Maryanne fashion.
I've been so tired and achy that I took yesterday and half of today off. At least it's a good time to take a couple of days off (except for that late ILL book): we have no house guests anymore, and not being able to leave the couch means I'm allowed to watch all the Olympics I want.
And, boy howdy, have I been watching the Olympics. I think it's amusing my parents, having me (me!) calling them all excited about curling and hockey. On the other hand, no one is surprised that I'm obsessed with figure skating. Or that I insisting on watching all of ice dancing, right from the compulsory program onward.
I feel like I'm seven years old all over again: the Olympics are in Canada somewhere close to where I live, and Elizabeth Manley is on my TV again (albeit as a commentator now, rather than as The Most Magical Silver Medalist Ever).
In other news, after I started to get some energy again this afternoon, I started cooking, in the hopes that food would revive me more. Such a good idea. I tried this recipe for Earl Grey Tea Pudding, and wow! London Fog in pudding form. I also made Roasted Dill Carrot Soup, and that was magical for my sore throat.
In conclusion: sickness is bad, but Olympics and dairy-based soft food are good. And I'm thinking in fragments, because I'm getting tired again.