Sick Day

Today I'm home sick, and I skipped classes. All I've done since I woke up at 9 is sleep. It isn't a glamorous sickness, like the flu. The Flu is great. You generally live through the experience, and you get real Sick Time - allowance to sleep all day, drink ginger ale, stay home from work/school, catch up on movies and reading, and people are really nice to you (Note: the nice only lasts about three days - after that you get no pity). Granted, throwing up and blowing your nose until it's red aren't fun or pretty but man, if you're going to be sick, be Sick. My malady ranks somewhere between bunions and  hemorrhoids in the coolness factor. Plus it is about the most annoying ailment that I can think of. Ever. But it got me out of school (I haven't taken a sick day in years) so we'll have to go with that.

 Since it's nice out - a generous 50 degrees - Husband Dear went for a bike ride. He said he'll be home in a few hours. I have the house all to myself, a rare occasion to be sure. 

 I've got Spring Fever something fierce. As mild as this winter has been, I've had enough. Darn you, Punxsutawney Phill, Harbinger of Winter Doom! I want to wear skirts, read out in the yard, plant a garden, take a stroll through town, picnic, eat fresh fruit again, sleep with the windows open, catch lightening bugs (I'm such a little kid). I thrive in the warm and the cold just takes it all out of me. Feburary is, by far, the worst. You can almost taste the flowers and warm breezes, but the short month is a cruel mistress. She teases and taunts and delivers naught but icy, slushy, blizzards. Ugh.