sick, sick, sick, sick

This is the worst cold I've had in years and year. Much nose-blowing, coughing, sneezing. It was so bad I didn't even get out of bed to hear the opera. That will tell you how nasty I feel. Friends have shown up with various remedies such as pills, cough suppressants, a nasal spray (we left our good one home). Mr. C tore out this morning to mime a request for one at the local farmacia. Last night there was much noise and hilarity, rockets, firecrackers, very loud music ~ or what passes as music when its not mariachi bands. Mexico is stuck in the Electronic Disco Age. Terrible stuff, really bad. But by around 4 AM things quieted down.

I spent the entire day in bed reading and dozing (and coughing and snorting). Just about finished with "740 Park," a social, economic, political and cultural history of New York City from the mid-19th to early 21st centuries. Very gossip-y but lots of fun to read. But l-o-n-g. Next tome will be Elliot Perlman's "Seven Types of Ambiguity." Highly recommended by daughter Caitlin. I read a few pages and am already hooked and looking forward to getting into it. But again, long.

Meanwhile, more coughing, sneezing, nose-blowing, sniffing and feeling generally lousy as the New Year opens. But tomorrow is another day and I'll think about it then. . . who said that or something like that?