It Happens

Those little beasties are clever. For the past week, the Amigo has been battling a cold. I was still able to teach all three of my yoga classes, but I couldn't face intense cardio or weight training workouts on Thursday or Saturday. Like most viral infections, this one ebbs and flows. The venerable Friendly One feels good for a few hours, but then... I know that it's been eighteen months since I've had so much as a sniffle, but still, I resent the drained feeling, the headache, the throat.

Friends asked us if we'd like to attend a play this afternoon. I suggested that Angel go. The play is some distance away, and I didn't feel up to a long drive in the car, didn't want to risk "sharing" this bug with our friends.

In the afternoon I roused myself and did a little laundry. The world doesn't grind to a halt because the Old Amigo gets a cold. At 2 PM, carrying an armload of clean linens into our bedroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror above Angel's dresser. My eyes are at half-mast, are heavy and dull. I sigh, realizing that I've got days of discomfort ahead of me, and turn to the task of making our bed.

Fresh laundry folded and put away, I return to the living room to relax on the sofa. The day is sunny and warm; finally my toes are warm. Sunlight streams in and I remove a few layers of clothing. Now I'm down to a single sweatshirt.

That, and lots of good reading material, are more than sufficient consolation. Time for some tea.