I hate having a cold. This one started as my husband and I were flying back from Chicago to San Jose after our Christmas visit with family. I sat in the Denver airport waiting for our connecting flight, my throat getting sorer by the moment, and knew that I was in for it.

Sure enough, by yesterday I couldn't breathe through my nose, and nothing makes me crankier than that. It won't surprise you, then, to know that I wrote only 78 words. Frankly, I'm surprised I wrote anything. I probably read about 50 pages, and that, too, is ridiculous.

Today I'm coughing and the nose is clearer; this seems to be moving downward. Here's hoping it goes away in time for me to see a movie over the weekend -- and to get some good reading in.