The New Year, Redux

We’re a week into the new year now, and I’m already behind. It’s all because of what I brought back from NYC this time around.

My souvenir from NYC circa 2012? – A wicked cold.

It’s “wicked” not that it’s so terrible as it is simply evil. I've had much worse colds before.

It’s wicked in that it’s not bad enough to send me to bed bereft of the ability to do anything useful, but leaves me instead among the walking wounded, free to hack and spew my way around society as I try to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

I couldn’t change my telephone message saying I was out of the office for most of the week because I didn’t have enough voice to make a comprehensible message.

When I answered the telephone, it so startled several people that they simply hung up, not knowing what else to do to the amphibious warbling coming from the other end under the guise of speach.

It’s also wicked in that it has derailed all of my good intentions about habits I was going to start for the new year.

Going to the gym.Writing regularly. Going to bed at a reasonable hour Sleeping through the night.

OK, the dog gets some of the blame for killing the last one. He seems to think that he needs a bit of reassurance along about 4:30 in the morning, along with the chance to go out. I can’t blame him, as it’s not unusual for me to need to make a bathroom visit about that same time.

Unfortunately, whether it is he or I that need to visit the toilet, it tends to be about the time that I’ve stopped hacking enough to finally fall off to sleep.

But you get the drift.

So for the past week, I’ve been exiled to the guest room, with a bed specifically designed to encourage visitors to go home after 4 days.

Well, not exactly. But it’s not the room I’m used to sleeping in and there’s no cable box, which means that my television sleeping choices have been pretty limited.

Stitch the Wunderdog wasn’t all that thrilled about it, either. After a week of living with Uncle Martin upstairs, he was surprised that he wasn’t sleeping in the same bed as either of his daddies and was returned to his own bed/box, downstairs in my office, some subordinate or household pet or something.

It was really traumatic for a couple of hours the first night. Fortunately that was before I found out that you can't take cough syrup and blood pressure meds at the same time, so I slept through most of it.

Fortunately for me, I also woke up each morning afterwards.

So, like someone in the Greek Orthodox Church, I’m celebrating the new year a few days late. I’m feeling better now, though, and my resolve is returning as the light-headedness from the various cold remedies diminishes.

So let’s start 2012 over again.