None of the gorgeous snow that fell the other day lasted.  It's okay.  The weather has definitely turned for wonderful Indian Summer to bleak and Novemberish.  The sky is heavy and keeps leaking snow flakes.  Lonely, skimpy flakes.  Like dandruff from the sky.  Skydruff.  Yep.  It's that gross.

I always forget how completely miserable a bad cold is until I catch another one.  That's stupid.  We don't catch colds; they catch us.  I've been Zicamming for days and popping Sudafed Sinus plus tabs like they were speed in my effort to elude it, but this monster's got me by the chest.  I'm light headed and tired and my back aches from the effort of drawing breath.  I'd skip church today but that means I couldn't go out if something fun comes along.  So I'll go, I'll pray and I'll spread a little joy when I shake hands.  I promise not to take wine, however.  That would just be mean.  Of course, if I sit in the back and chug whatever's left, that would be okay, right? 

The only good thing about a cold is the excuse to drink all the cocoa I can hold.

 

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