I have a summer cold. It sucks.
I rarely get sick, but I guess my number came up and the Cold Fairy decided to whack me with her sick stick. Colds in the winter aren’t so bad, because you can curl up on the couch with hot tea and lemon and be miserable with yourself. But in the summer, not so much. The garden doesn’t care that my throat hurts, and the basil and kale certainly don’t give a shit that all I want to do is take a nap. Nope. And apparently, the children still expect to be fed and chauffeured around. No time for curling up on the couch and wallowing in my sickness.