Last night I actually headed to bed at, for me, a very reasonable hour. 10 pm. R and I watched Cupcake Wars on Food Network but I fell asleep before I could see who won. I'm sure I could look it up, but I'm just not that motivated.
As I fell asleep, I realized that I was getting stopped up. Uh oh. So I snuggled deeper into the covers and my pillows and hoped I could sleep it off. Instead, I had these vivid, nonsense, bizarre dreams. Little orange squares raising up and down...hard to explain and sound sane, so I'll just stop there. When I have dreams like this? I'm usually getting sick. I so don't have time for that, and really? Unfair! I have disinfected this whole house since I took S to the doctor on Thursday and I've washed all the bed linens...covers included. So bah humbug!
But there is hope. Usually, if I can go pound out the cardio, I can get rid of the congestion before it sets in. I was set to meet Kristine at the Y in the morning, so I was looking forward to a nice, sweaty workout.
And then at 4 am, here comes S into our bedroom. She's uber congested and coughing like she's trying to give up a lung. Great. Just....great. I'm hoping that maybe it's just from being asleep and that once she's up and moving around, the congestion will break up and the coughing will stop. No such luck.
She doesn't have a fever, but I can't take the chance of taking her to the Y childcare room if she might get others sick. They have babies from six weeks on up, and I would not be pleased if I came to drop off/pick up my child and someone else's child was already in there sick. Rude. So I emailed Kristine to let her know I wouldn't be there this morning as I sit here and feel my head fill with mucus of my own. Sigh. It's 8:15 in the morning. Go away, Monday. You aren't welcome here today.