Of course. Last weekend I had precisely two activities to really worry about: A date with Lil’ on Friday night and playing Santa (or at least Gift Delivery Man) for my kids Monday morning. (There was a holiday party here at the house on Saturday, but I didn’t have to worry about that, see?)

My plans for today and the days to come, as of yesterday evening, looked a little something like this: Thursday after work, visit rugrats. Friday evening, dine with Lil’. Saturday, visit rugrats again and also go help The Imperial Princess of Cute with some computer problems she’s having. Sunday, maybe, go visit folks for New Year’s Eve.

Through all of last night, however, I struggled with a sore throat. You know how it is when it hurts to swallow? That’s the time your mouth decides to produce endless saliva, of course. And then the coughing started, and the stuffy head, and the fever, and the whole NyQuil commercial litany through the course of the day.

Yes, I’ll be taking The Green Death shortly. Thanks for asking.

No kidlet visiting tonight. No date tomorrow, though in a weird sort of way that worked out well for Lil’ and Geoffrey. (I wholeheartedly approve of things working out well for those two, mind you!) Saturday is… up in the air. I’m hoping to kick this thing soon enough to be functional by then, but I can’t make any guarantees, especially since I’m also determined to make it to work tomorrow. I’ve been home sick from work too many times on this job already, for the short time I’ve been there. Argh. Maybe this illness is the dying affliction of a lousy year, and a sign that it’s going to get better after this year/cold is through.

Then again, I’ve had my faith in the prospect of an improved new year trampled over and over, so I’m not getting my hopes up…