This is what I look like right now, except my duvet is black, there are lots more dirty Kleenexes on the dresser, and my hair is longer and much more limp and straggly.
I feel like death. There's a knife in my throat, I keep coughing, my eyes are watering, and my nose is runny yet plugged and feels like it's about to crawl off my face. Also, I've been blowing and wiping it so often that there's a sick red scab under it.
It's 8:45 on a Friday night and this is so unfair. I have a three-day weekend ahead of me and I can do nothing more than sit in bed and drink Airborne and watch Princess and the Frog on Netflix. Russ is at the gym without me. I'm lonely and sad. I've been sick for the last week and a half, and every time I think I'm at the cusp of getting better, another one of my sweet students sneezes in my face.
I guess the bright side is that I have three days to recuperate, and hopefully I'll be back to my perky self by Tuesday morning, bright and early, when I go back to teaching. That's what is most important. Right?