So I was feeling really good on Sunday. M wasn’t, but he’s felt sick a few times in the past month & I haven’t caught whatever he’s had.
He shared opt his time.
I was fine on Monday. Tuesday, I woke up feeling kinda tired, but that could totally be chalked up to my run on Monday. I came home from work and literally fell into bed. I asked M to get me some food, the decided I was too tired to eat. My sweet, sweet boys took such good care of me. M brought me toast with Nutella on it. Butter brought me a bottle of ginger ale. Bear carried the napkin for me.
I ended up running a fever last night. I woke up this morning thinking it had broken, but shortly after the boys were gone, I felt warm again. Except not, because I was so cold I got out my electric blanket. Which I’m still huddled under. In fleece pants.
This is the sickest I’ve been in a while. Probably since before the boys were born (surgery not included).
I’m going to go climb into bed. Because the one thing I haven’t really been able to do is sleep.