I'm into my fifth cold. I felt it come on unmistakably last night during a long and tedious discussion about how best to procure a memorial plaque. You guest it--Vestry for two hours. And you know I continue to feel awful because I got saddled with the job of finding, buying and otherwise organizing this plaque. 'Let Anne Do It' being the ringing cry of our church and vestry. If I had had my wits about me I would have protested loudly enough to shove the responsability onto someone else. Instead I only noticed when I read the notes later (which I had taken). To quote, 'actionable, Anne will look through catalogues and buy memorial plaque, coordinating with--about wooden base for plaque.' That's when I felt that dull hated soreness creep up into my throat and head, bringing more pressure and misery into my already cold laden mind. Came home and confessed everything I could think of again. And started reading Job.
So now I'm sitting on the couch in my bathrobe and slippers at 10:30 in the morning while my bored children run screaming laps around me. I know I've got to get up and solve all the world's problems, but I just don't have the will.