Oops, my body finally figured out we quit

You know how you can be tense and hyper-alert for months, and then as soon as the crisis has passed your body relaxes and you get sick? Well after coasting through last week (my first week of unemployment) in a fog, my body finally realized we don't have to be on constant high-stress alert, and promptly surrendered to a whopper cold. That's right, I'm in bed right now all drugged up on cold medicine, surrounded by my faithful companions (Mango on the left, Xena on the right), reading books, blogging, and watching tv with absolutely no redeeming qualities. Now if only I had a mini fridge up here I'd be in hog heaven. This whole getting sick thing isn't really that bad if you don't have to drag your butt out of bed and go to work. Actually, come to think of it, almost everything is better if you don't have to go to work. Ok, it's official, letting me quit my job is reason #123 that I love my husband. Reason #121 was covered earlier, and reason #122 is the fact that he left this on my pillow when he went to work yesterday.