I Could've Coughed All Night

I could've coughed all night, and still have coughed some more. It was a never ending night of tossing and turning and coughing and coughing and coughing a wee bit more. Even a dose of that magic "so you can rest" syrup did not help. I remember after one coughing fit, whispering to my husband "I'm sorry" while he sleepily rubbed my shoulder. When he's got to get up at 4:45, the last thing he needs all night is a restless bed companion, and even sick and tired, I am so aware of that.

Poor little fella.

Poor me.

Because now he's gone to drill, and I am here with the kids and the dogs and I am exhausted. I know if I can just push past this morning blah fest, I'll feel okay. I don't have a sore throat or a headache, I just have a ticklish dry cough that is trying to suck my will to live.

Oh well. It's nothing that a hot cup of tea and a slow, meandering walk with the dogs around our neighborhood won't kind of fix. Or at least, make me feel like getting dressed in real clothes and at least peeking out of my door to view the land of the living.

My goal is to be all the way back into that land by Monday!