Less than exemplary behavior

So, after my perfect dogs behaved perfectly with the Petco groomer yesterday, we walked around the store a bit, browsing. When we got near the checkout counter, one of the familiar employees came up to us to pet the dogs and ask about Tammy's shaved areas (remnants of a recent hospital stay). At that very moment, I was suddenly struck with a violent coughing fit, turned my head away from the employee, and coughed all over the biscuit bar.

I guess dogs don't catch human illnesses, so it's not such a terrible thing. But other Petco employees have confessed to me that they snack on the dog cookies sometimes. (You know, the ones that look like creme-filled cookies? That's basically what they are, and they aren't bad. We...don't buy them often.)

This is why I'm not allowed to leave the house when I'm sick. The last time I went out for an extended period (which happened to be New Year's Eve day), I coughed all over hundreds of serving items at Crate & Barrel. I hope everyone washes their purchases before eating off them.

The day after Christmas was the day I started canceling plans because of my illness. That's, what, 11 days ago? Huh. For whatever it's worth, it feels like much longer ago than that.

I haven't gone to the doctor for a multitude of reasons. I'm too lazy to make the appointment. I don't want to spend the money. I'm too lazy to find the doctor's new office building. I think it'll go away on its own. I'm too lazy to actually talk to the doctor. It's probably a virus anyway. I kind of like being a hermit in the winter (i.e. I'm lazy). And anyway, the only thing the doctor can do is prescribe a regimen of antibiotics, likely disallowing me to drink alcohol or do anything else fun, but what's another yeast infection anyway? Am I right, ladies?

I'm actually heartened to learn that this is only day 11 of being sick. Back in my youth I used to spend the entire span of time between Thanksgiving and Christmas with the flu. But just this morning I found myself up for only 15 minutes at 4am coughing, instead of 60-90 minutes. This silly virus or bacteria didn't know what it was getting into when it met me. I'm kicking it to the curb. By February, I fully intend to see people again. I hope. I really kind of want to, which is surprising to me. I guess even lazy asses get cabin fever.

Is cold fueling my cold?

So I've had this cold/flu thing for two weeks. It's not actually bad. I don't even have a fever. But it's the kind of thing that keeps you up all night coughing (and I do mean YOU, if you're anywhere near me, though to be fair there aren't that many YOUs sleeping in my house, and anyway, my main concern is ME) and keeps me tired and sluggish all day. And then there's the throat-on-fire thing. A few recent days have passed where I've gotten nothing done at all, save the bare essentials. (The bare essentials consisting mainly of feeding the dogs and letting them into the yard to potty. Because cleaning up dog pee inside is a worse thing than dragging my sluggish ass out of bed to open the back door for them.)

And so while lying in bed, waiting for the Tivo to fast forward between episodes of Law & Order, I have time to look around and think. And right now I'm thinking: should I close my windows? We've been having an unbearably gorgeous summer here in Chicago ... except for the humidity, that is ... but the temperature has been wonderful. Wonderful in that it's 80-90 degrees during the day, as a proper summer should be, but 60-70 at night. Nowhere near hot enough to cause the house to overheat. So at home, the practice is: open the windows at night, close them (and the window shades) during the day, if it's hot. You barely even need to turn on the A/C ... if it weren't for the humidity. And lately, the days have been drier and no A/C has been required at all during the day.

So, for the past couple weeks, my windows have been open all day and all night. It's constantly breezy, and at night, that breeze is blowing in air that gets down to the low 60s. Every now and then, an upper 50. Which has made me wonder: might I not be as sick if I'd just close my windows and keep the temperature constant in here?

I've long screamed from the rooftops that you don't catch a cold from being cold. But you have to admit that there is something about temperature change, about cold breezes, about breathing cold air at night. It gives you the sniffles.

But all winter long I yearn for the days when I can open up the house. When I can leave the big, heavy doors ajar and have nothing but screens between myself and the outdoors. So I hate to miss even a day of that.

Right now it's 75 in my bedroom, and 66 outside. It's 9:30 p.m. It's time for my slug of a body to get some rest. It's still cooling down outside. Inside, the heat from the lights and the computer will soon be gone. I eye the window much like, on any normal day, I'd eye the Stairmaster. Knowing that there is something I should get up and do. But tonight I don't resist a workout; I resist closing that window.