Well, damn, I'm still laid low, and it's called RSV.
One of the banes of my existence are acronyms; anyway, it's some sort of influenza.
However, I no longer feel all beaten up and dragged out.
The current irritation is the cats, who want to go outdoors, which is fine by me. It's snowing rather heavily, but the temperatures are okay, in the 20s, and there's no wind. Not great weather, but minimally-acceptable weather for allowing the cats outdoors if that's where they want to go.
So I open the door, and a cat sticks its nose outside, detecting the snow.
Then the cat decides it wants to stay indoors after all.
Which is okay with me; either way.
But then five minutes later, I have to open the door again, for the cat to go outside.
Then the cat decides it wants to stay indoors after all.
It's as if the cat (this is all the cats, one at a time) thinks that every time I open the front door, the scenery outside will be different than it was five minutes before.
When I'm ill, which is damned rare--I last had the influenza in early 1998, which was nearly ten years ago now--the most comforting fact to me is that inevitably it too shall pass.