Wishing and hoping I wouldn’t get really sick didn’t do a bit of good.  I’ve been in bed with a puke bucket, a bottle of Dayquil, and a couple of books for about 12 hours now.  I’ve slept on and off, but I can’t sleep long or very well thanks to all the congestion.

Food?  Can’t even think about it!

I finally made myself get up for a few minutes.  I might feel like total crap, but I won’t start feeling better until I can make myself move around some.  Running to the bathroom doesn’t count.  Ya know, sometimes I think the best best fat burner in the world is a good case of the stomach flu. Too bad it totally sucks!

I know it’s bad when Hubby gets sick. He gets the occasional head cold or upset stomach, but for the most part he’s pretty resistant to most of the stuff I get. He’s just the germ carrier that brings it home with him. This time he’s been hit pretty hard, though. He came home from work early today because he just couldn’t take it anymore. He was running to the porta-john to puke every little bit, and he was working up there on top of the mountain in rain and 50 degree weather. It just wasn’t a good combo.

I really hope he’s feeling a lot better by the morning because convincing him to stay home just isn’t going to happen. It’s not an option in his book. He’s always at work no matter how sick he is. Today was a very very big exception to that rule, and he only came home because he was only going to miss 2 hours.

Ok, it’s time for me to make a cup of tea, steam my head, and go back to bed.