Upper respiratory tract infection. That sounds so much better than "cold", because when you feel like you are dying, you need a nasty sounding condition to give how you feel merit. I've always liked the phrase "death warmed over" too and find it particularly apt this morning.
I tried to head it off. Valiantly. Yesterday, I felt it coming on and crammed liquids, popped vitamin C and echinacea hoping to make my body so slippery inside, the virus wouldn't get a toehold. Alas, the virus laughed and sneered while digging its nails into my throat. 10- 14 days is how this thing goes, dammit. I'll do my best to whine cleverly in the upcoming days.
This was supposed to be a free weekend too. The first one in a while that has been chore and plan free. Of course I still made a list of things to do, but this morning I've changed the list, scratched off working out, scratched off painting the bedroom. I doubt I'll get out of my peejays today.