I dont feel good. In fact, all minor activities that I have to do this weekend seem to be the most intimidatingly huge things ever. Work for five hours. noooo!
Go to grocery store. noooooo!
Make Soup for Souper Bowl Sunday. Noooooooooo!
Seriously, instead I just want to go to sleep for like three hours. Maybe more. Maybe nine. Maybe twelve. Whatever.
Oh, but have I mentioned how happy I am that Brett's home?! I dont care how much my throat hurts-he makes me feel better.