Sick days.

There is truly no benefit to being sick as an adult. No classes to skip and no one to bring you hot soup and magazines while you lay on the couch and cough your lungs out. Just lots of housework and exercise and cooking and emails to get astronomically behind on.

I haven't been confined-to-the-couch sick in ages, but last week an unfortunate brand of flu or cold hit me hard. First it was the grogginess and that telltale sore throat first thing in the morning (doesn't sickness always seem to begin with that damned sore throat?) and the next thing I knew, I found myself vegging out on the couch for hours and hours at a time, just me, the puppies and a Harry Potter movie marathon. Also, hot beverages. Loads and loads of hot beverages.

And one very sweet husband who picked up soup on the way home, who made me special mac and cheese and my mom's peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, who delivered breakfast in bed and who I may or may not have transferred my icky illness to. Oops.