Hit by a shovel

The vacuum came out of the closet.



It's not doing anything, but at least it's out. Clearly I need the fancy new vacuum that will clean the floor on its own because I can't sit on the couch and feel miserable AND do all the housework at the same time. Or a maid, yes a maid is a much better idea.

I've been sick since I visited Ohio for Thanksgiving. I'm blaming the nieces and nephews, but it could have been the windy cold weather that I insisted on walking through (almost) each morning. Either way, I've only felt worse since returning home.

Last night I took NyQuil. I might have taken too much, I have no idea. What I do know is that I slept hard and woke up this morning feeling like I had been hit with a shovel. I've been exhausted since I got out of bed and can't seem to take a nap to save my life. Wouldn't it be nice to have a sweet man here to bring me hot tea or cocoa, fix my dinner. And socks, I need socks because my feet are cold.

Course, my heart usually feels like it's been hit by a shovel most of the time a sweet man comes around.