This weather is amazing, chickens.
So amazing that my body doesn’t know what to do with 80 degrees in March.
So it produced a sore throat and the sniffles.
I’m combatting it with handfuls of clementines, liters of water, and almost ten hours of sleep last night.
I refuse to be taken down so close to St. Patrick’s Day, and also, the weekend in general.
We’ll see how this turns out.
Needless to say, I didn’t get in a run last night, and it’s not looking good for today either.
I know that technically if your symptoms are above the neck, you’re generally okay to run, but sore throats make me homicidal.
And one should not take to the streets packing that kind of ‘tude.
I’m sure you agree with me.
Anyway, after hunkering down in my cube today for eight hours, my plans involve a last minute straightening out of my home before JW’s bff BR heads into town for a long weekend of celebrating Irish heritage and enjoying Chicago in general.
Come to think of it, last time he was here I was sick too.
An interesting trend, I have stumbled upon.
And with that, I’m off to commute and put down several more cups of tea before lunchtime.
Enjoy the sunshine, chickadees.