walk like an egyptian

I’m not a good sick person.

I spend a lot of time declaring my imminent death, and time starts to blur together.

Friday night was first Friday, but in the war between art and whining about my cold, whining won. We ended up going downtown Louisville, where we actually saw some art anyway – which basically means that my cold is some kind of magic eight ball.

Crockett had butternut squash risotto. It was delicious.

As if there were any suspense to be had….

I had the calamari salad.

Saturday morning I woke up sick and ravenous.

Is it feed a fever starve a cold? Because if it’s that way I’m definitely doing it wrong.

I filled the bowl up as full as humanly possible.

I was watched. Or my cereal was watched.

It’s so hard to know what’s going on in the head of a puppy.

Friends of ours had a co-ed baby shower yesterday, so we got nibblies for lunch, and then Crockett took off in the middle of a snowstorm for a mountain weekend with the boys.

What’s a sickish girl to eat when she’s all alone with snow and her puppies?

Butternut squash soup from a box, of course. With a little (ok, a lot of) hot sauce, poured over a spoonful of yogurt (invisible but there), and topped with some toasted pecans.

So yummy.

I do have a perfectly good office somewhere in this house, in case you’re wondering – I just choose not to work there.

See? Snow.

Just in case you thought I was lying.

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