No one knows better than me that the best laid plans tend to go wildly off course at the first opportunity. This weekend has proved to be no exception to the First Rule of Operational Planning. Instead of attacking the arm-length list of things to do today, I’m mostly sitting here nursing a sore throat and wondering if I’d be better off switching from coffee to tea with honey and lemon for the day. I don’t feel sick so at least for the moment it’s just another minor irritation making its presence known among so many others.
So today is changing gears. Instead of going out and getting things done I’m going to try being an indoor cat (and getting things done). After all, having some kind of throat crud doesn’t prevent me from doing research, or laundry, or from getting my first attempt at beef stew in the pot before first light this morning. All I’m really trying to do is avoid talking if at all possible.
If my temperature spikes and this starts looking like Ebola, though, I’ll be out and about quick as you please… Should I find myself about to expire in a agonizing, blood-soaked death there’s a list of people I need to find so I can give them a big slobbery kiss.