I think in the past year and a half I may have taken one sick day off from work. This isn't because my body is impervious to bacteria or viruses nor is it something I'm proud of. No, it's because my body hates me and decides to wait until a weekend or holiday or vacation to get me sick. Tuesday night I started to get a cold. At first I thought it might be allergies from a puzzle Sara and I pulled out and decided to do. Who does puzzles anymore? No one. But guess what? We did. Turns out it wasn't allergies, it was a cold. Despite me feeling like crap I ended up having a really good time with family over the weekend and was feeling good enough to play hockey last night. And now, like every other time, Sara is starting to get sick just as I get back to normal, despite out best efforts to prevent it. "We still have over a bottle's worth." "Ovar Ubottlesworth? Isn't that somebody's name?" Labels: life
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