When I was a kid, I would meticulously document all my Christmas presents in my diary. I liked to leave things out under the tree to be admired at leisure. Now, I like the things that get put to use immediately. Like this year’s #1 gift, the hot water bottle (my old one, a purple fish, started to leak). I crawled into bed last night with tea, Emily of New Moon, the hot water bottle, a cough, the chills, and my brand-spanking new ipod. (It’s already been dropped in a cup of coffee, so we’re well aquainted. Now I just need to get some books on there, because how much do I love the idea of going for a walk and listening to a book? So much.)
Eh. I don’t remember what else I was going to say. I want a vacation. I’ve stolen an exra day off work with being sick, even though it means I no longer get holiday pay for yesterday (no calling in sick the day before or day after a holiday at corporate job). Which, I understand why they do that, but I AM sick. I’m not about to go to work and stand out in a freezing cold warehouse while I try not to hack up a lung. It’s not my fault that I succumbed to this cold as soon as I had a day off.
At least I’ve got my hot water bottle.