I am sick. I didn't want to be, but I am. In fact it is a weird convergence of events. Stop reading right now if you don't like stories with lady issues.
Friday Night: I ate 2 bites of my husbands ice cream. No, 3 bites. Let's be honest here.
Saturday Morning: I notice a lot of phlegm. And I don't feel very well. We drove over to see our daughter and take care of last minute things that she needed now that she has been in her apartment a week. We went to breakfast (whole grain pancakes for me), the Farmers Market (when you really look around there are very few organic sellers at the market), bought a Craigslist bike out in the middle of nowhere, then to Walmart to get a few things she needed. Then back to her apartment to work on bike, put all that stuff away, and piddle around - all the while feeling more and more crummy.
Sunday Morning: Period starts, full fledged cold is under way.
I swear the three things - the ice cream (which is terrible for you and I don't eat much dairy anymore), running myself ragged when I didn't feel very good, and starting my period converged at the right time to make me sick.
That if those three events didn't happen at the same time I would be fine. Like my body would say, "sure eat that crap" or "go one more place even though you are burned out" or even "what's the big deal you have your period every month". BUT ALL THREE at once and someones damn germs caused the horrible cold that has me drinking water/lemon juice/cayenne pepper, eating super simple meals, and downing EmergenC like it is going out of business. Oh, and the decongestant that you have to sign for because they make meth out of it...grrrr... the curse of the three....
