I've been plagued by a cold this week. I should've stayed home on Monday, but it's far easier to put up with headaches, clogged sinuses and sneezing, than find a sub for the day. I coughed so much the past few days that my ribs hurt. My back started to feel sore yesterday, and I bent it around a few times...when I realized it wasn't sore from standing, but coughing.
On Monday, the sixth graders were just amazed I was still walking and talking. "You're eyes look funny," one of them said. And they kept watering.
I went to my sister-in-law's choir concert on Tuesday and held my coughs in. Luckily, Steph had menthol cough drops to ease the torture of the scratchy throat.
Yesterday, I was just miserable. I felt a little better, but I couldn't stop coughing. I also felt bad for any co-worker who came near me. Germs were jumping off of me in a cloud like Pigpen from "A Charlie Brown Christmas." I decided it would do me some good to just stay home.
And I've thrown off the space-time continuum. Steph has Thursdays off, usually. The girls are used to her just being home during the day. Fauna hasn't been able to leave us alone. She keeps walking back and forth, back and forth, wagging her tail, wagging her tail, jumping on the sofa, jumping off the sofa, etc. Nigra can't help but whine. And whine. And bark at the mailman, but that's an everyday event. I'm afraid that one day, when we're not home, she'll fall off the couch while barking at him through our large window.
The girls are said to be very calm and good when it's just Steph at the house. I have yet to notice that. Well, I see it now...three hours after the fact.