Summer Colds are THE WORST

I spent most of the week caring for my sick daughter. I'm pleased to say that she's almost finished her antibiotics and had returned to her normal, playful self. I am not pleased, however, to have caught her cold/virus/whatever and it's making me LES MISERABLES. I can handle a cold in the Winter, but in the summer? NO. Just no.

I have been in a daze the past four days. I'm either running a fever and shivering under eighteen blankets or I am hacking so loud and so frequently that I am not getting any sleep. If this were, say, January I could handle it better... but there is nothing worse than running a fever and then stepping out into 90+ degree weather. GROSS.

Everyone I know is ready for the Memorial Day weekend, and I'm over here waiting for my doctor's office to call me back. It's been almost a week of the Day-Quil, Ny-Quil, repeat cycle and I honestly feel like butt. Worse than butt, even. MY FAMILY HAS EATEN WENDY'S FOR THE PAST TWO NIGHTS. IN A ROW.

I washed two loads of clothes this week. That's it. My daughter went back to daycare Thursday, so I've been curled up on the couch watching episodes of Mad Men back to back. I went to bed at 9 p.m. last night. I'm living the dream over here.

Make sure you're washing your hands. The nurse at my doctor's office says whatever this is--it's going around. Trust me; you DO NOT want a summer cold.