I was feeling pretty cocky yesterday, like maybe I was gonna beat this thing, this bug that everybody says lasts a week, and get over it in two days. Then about 3:30 I'm wondering why I feel so suddenly lousy, and I realize it's been seven and a half hours since my last six-hour feel-better pill, which only lasts about two hours anyway.

For the first two days I wondered what I had. Now it definitely feels like a head cold, which is a relief in the sense that I can deal with the various kinds of miseries associated with a cold. I know there's nothing to be done but rest and drink lots of water, and that no amount of whining is going to make this go away. So I'm moving on.

The thing is, if I let myself, I could wallow in misery, because I'm at the stage in the illness where I kind of like being sick. I'm not feeling bad enough to wish I were dead any more, but I'm not feeling well enough to take on a full agenda.

So I'm justified in being lazy and useless. If I don't get the dusting and vacuuming done, it's because I'm sick. I haven't opened the company mail for three days, and I don't even care. I'll just lie on the couch and fill up the waste basket with used Kleenex and Ricola wrappers.

But if something comes up that I want to do ... well, I'm not that sick. (I guess. I mean, nobody's actually called and said, "Want to go see Cast Away tonight?")

Besides, I kind of like the sexy deep voice that all these microbes have given me.

The family is coming by tonight, so I'm spending some time today making the place presentable. This involves mostly straightening up all the loose papers and throwing out old magazines. While doing this I'm finding some unpaid bills that I shoved out of the way when the auditor came. Some day I'm going to be fully organized, so that these things don't happen. At least not all the time.

Anyway, nobody expects a guy who's been sick all week to have a spotless house. And anyone who knows me expects to see books and papers tossed here and there, and dust piled up on the end tables, and a few dirty dishes in the sink. I run a loose ship here, and every so often we drift onto the rocks. We haven't sunk yet, though.