Crooaaaaaaak. Yup. That's what I sound like right now. After my spiel about listening to my body, I still managed not to tune in. I laid low on Friday and Saturday, only venturing out to see my childhood buddy Mehdy. (Pic above. Isn't he so handsome? I knew him when he was chubby and had floppy hair! Now he's trim and the host of an amazing travel show.) I was feeling a tad better on Sunday, so decided to hit the waves -- mistake. Now my voice won't go above a whisper, which is interesting since I have a bunch of interviews to conduct. Blargh! I did sleep away most of Sunday, so I'm hoping for a speedy recovery. Poor Erik is shadowing me with a can of vanilla-scented Lysol. I was wondering why everything had a cloyingly sweet scent; I was about to comment about his weird new choice in cologne. Ha.
Edited to add: One downside of freelancing: It's so hard to take sick days! I would like nothing more to lay in bed and watch crappy television, but my computer is calling. Boo.
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