Playing catch-up

Make sure you knock on wood when you utter a statement like I did a few weeks ago: “I don’t remember the last time I had a cold.” Actually the statement was true. It had been at least 15 years… probably more… since I’d had a crummy cold. But I can’t say that now. It’s been three weeks of coughing, sniffling, sneezing, moaning, swollen glands, fever, red nose, aching, sweats, sore throat, joint pain, watery eyes, headache, runny nose and boxes of tissues.

I’m well now and just beginning my Christmas shopping, trying my best to choose the shops and times that beat the holiday crowds. I glance over at the check-out lines when I enter a shop… and when the line looks sparse like the birds in the picture below, I grab a basket and hurry to fill it up with wonderful gifts.

However, Murphy’s Law trumps a light check-out line and I often see this sight as I hurry to check out. It seems everyone has the same idea and it’s a rush to the cash register.

And here is where I seem to find myself….the last person in line.  Friends and family: if your gifts are delivered late this year, please forgive me!

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3 thoughts on “Playing catch-up

    • It is truly bitter today! I chipped ice off the front steps this morning so the UPS and FedEx drivers wouldn’t break a leg delivering Christmas packages. I had to dash inside to thaw between steps!

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Annie, What a fun blog as usual, even making light of your ailments. I am usually cold-free as well, but this sneaky cold struck me this season as well, which I hate, because I was unable to over-indulge at parties as usual, and leave feeling like a toad, because I went in feeling like a toad….and, we even skipped some events, which is something this individual would NEVER do ordinarily. Sad. Even though I am now well, as are you, I feel punk much of the time, with not the usual spunk I usually enjoy. Everything takes me longer, if I even get the motivation to begin a task at all. Will it take Spring to make me spring back? Already I am looking forward to that, my favorite season (sans the deer visitors and their young.)

    Like

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