Nothing says "come hither" quite like a woman in a flanelette nightie, her nose red and swollen, her chestal area smeared with that well known aphrodisiac, Vicks Vap-O-Rub, eh.

    NOT.

    I hab a cold.

    I have been sick, whiney, sneezy, tired, whiney, cranky ... did I mention whiney? ... all day. I am *such* a baby when I get sick.

    And the thing is, because I am stuffed up and HATE taking medicine of any sort, I can't lie down and get any sleep. I'm not well enough to do anything that requires concentration. So I have been cleaning house.

    I LOATHE housework and can easily get dust bunnies in this place big enough to name. Couple that with my feverish crankiness and you have a recipe for marital disaster.

    Fortunately, my spousal unit has finely honed survival skills. Heck, he's made it through 26 years of marriage; the man knows when to hold 'em and knows when to fold 'em, knows when to walk away, knows when to run ... so he disappeared off into his workshop for most of the day.

    Um, am I so feverish that I'm resorting to old Kenny Rogers lyrics?

    OMIGAWD, I'm sicker than I thought, eh.

    Excuse me while I go find the thermometer.