Well, today's my last weekday before I start my new job on Monday. I had such high hopes for this past week: I was going to go to museums and go shopping and run errands and be out and about in the sunshine. But alas, it wasn't meant to be. The Fates decreed that I spend my last week before returning to work in my pajamas on the couch, sneezing, coughing and being miserable.

I hate being sick. No matter what kind of cold I get, it always lasts an entire week. I have no energy, I sleep all the time, I'm achy and uncomfortable, and I can't accomplish anything. Some people can still be productive members of society with a little cold. Not me. I'm a mess.

Last night I lost my voice. That used to happen more frequently when I was a kid; I'd lose my voice about once a semester, usually when I got sick around midterms and finals. Since I moved in with Peat 5 years ago, however, I've been sick less and less each year. He doesn't see it that way, though. He still thinks I have a crappy immune system. Which I do. But he has no idea how bad it USED to be. I would have to bring boxes of tissues with me to school. I'd be eating cough drops like candy. Kids would call me "Rudolph" because of my irritated nose. And this would happen at least twice a school year. And always during exams. And once during the summer, too. Being sick in camp is even less fun, let me tell you. The infirmary always smelled like laundry starch and sweat. No matter what camp it was, too. Ick.

Anyway, I guess I should be glad that I waited to start my new job until next week so I won't be hacking and sneezing on my new boss or coworkers. I just wish I'd had a final week of freedom, instead of a week of being weak.

Feh.