I have a cold.
I am pretty ticked off by the whole situation, because I don't think I deserved this, I have no idea where it came from, and I just darn well don't think it's fair.
it started last sunday with a cough deep down in my chest.
just a little cough, infrequently.
and day by day it's gradually grown bigger, more frequent, until now it is racking and terrifying.
it's picked up something new each day: neck ache, shoulder ache, head ache, stuffiness, tiredness, grumpiness (yes, I admit to this), sore throat, and these past few days, a voracious appetite.
what's up with that?
I can't stop eating.
partly because it feels good going down my scratchy icky throat, I realize this. but I've sent enough food down my esophagus to feed three of me during these past four days, and I keep finding myself searching out more.
when I was out of town last month and my kids' dad stayed here he rearranged some of my kitchen cupboards. this is his comment,"you have candy stashed everywhere!"
I used to.
it's all gone: I have tracked down and eaten every possible thing I can find. cookies, candy, treats, breakfast bars, bread, and this most dangerous concoction my children's ex-nanny made for them: peanut butter mixed with crumbled oreos and chocolate pieces. oh, goodness, that stuff is lethal. (okay the latter is not gone, and don't tell my daughter it's me who is stealing bites of it from her jar.)
I'm on day 6 here. it doesn't feel to me like it's leaving anytime soon, but it had better or I'll have to go shopping for new clothes.
that's all, gotta go, I feel a box of cereal calling me . . .