This was my day off, and I blew off pretty much everything in favor of trying to get over my cold. I slept until about 1 p.m., then ate some soup, and went back to bed around 2:30, and didn't get up again until 5:30. I hate wasting a day like that, but I'm not running a temperature anymore, and my cough seems better, and my body isn't aching like it was. So I guess I'll go to work tomorrow.

I did manage to get a little bit of administrivia done during my brief afternoon period of consciousness, signing a contract, getting some mail ready to go, etc. I didn't make it to the auto shop, obviously, so I'll be taking the car in on Saturday morning. Not my preferred way to spend a weekend, but it's better than dragging around with this cold for another week.

Being sick so profoundly colors my consciousness. Trivial problems seem overwhelming. And non-trivial sources of stress... well, they feel pretty apocalyptic. I'm sure I'll get my sense of perspective back once I start feeling better. Can't happen soon enough for me. I'm just lucky to have Heather here taking care of me, making me tea, bringing me juice, and telling me everything is going to be okay. She's the one certain thing in an uncertain universe, and I'm more thankful to have her than I can say.