In January I made a list of a bunch of goals I would like to accomplish. Some of them were little, one-time things, like finding a new dentist and getting my sewing machine fixed. Then stuff happened and I didn't get anything on my list done. January slid into February, and February is just too much fun with the baby's birthday and Valentine's Day. Suddenly last weekend I realized that it was already almost March and I had things that really needed to get done. So I made a grand new list and tacked it to my bulletin board.
Then last Sunday I started feeling weird. We watched the Oscars last Sunday night and I kept crying about random things, plus my body kept alternating between too hot and too cold. Monday morning I dragged myself to class, which thankfully I didn't have to teach because we were meeting in the library for research instruction. By Monday night I finally accepted that I was sick and not getting any better. Tuesday I spent most of the day lying around; my wonderful visiting teacher took Little Dude to playgroup in the morning, and my sister-in-law took him and the rest of the kids to her house for the afternoon. I thought by Tuesday night I was better, but instead I tossed and turned all night before waking up with a fever. So class was canceled on Wednesday and it took until Friday afternoon before I really felt like myself again. I will remember this next year when I'm trying to decide whether or not to get a flu shot.
Tomorrow I am determined to tackle some things on the to-do list, vacuum my carpets, mop the nasty sticky kitchen floor, take the kids to the library, and get my life back. As much fun as a week-long vacation sounds, when it is unplanned and spent in a state of feverish malaise, it's not fun at all.