As always, Thanksgiving week had ups and downs.
Monday was great. My daughter still had school, but I was off, so I wrote about 2700 words. Then I went to her school and discovered that something was wrong with my foot; every step was painful.
Tuesday I dealt with the pain by walking with a cane all day, which included chaperoning a field trip–a walking field trip–for my daughter’s class. At the end of the day I sat in my chair and barely rose from it until bedtime.
Wednesday was ok; a day with my daughter is always fun, even with the pain in my foot. Thursday was ok, too. My in-laws and a friend came for dinner, and it was pleasant. But that night I came down with a cold. That was less pleasant.
On Friday the cold was bearable; but made me grumpy as hell all day. On Saturday it morphed into full-on death plague, and I felt like crap. On Sunday it got a little better, but still not good.
And today was fine–until my voice cut out in the middle of third period. Now I’m croaking my way through the day. Joy.