I didn't do pretty much anything this week as I've been on the edge of being sick since last Wednesday or so. In fact, I was pretty sick on Thursday, but still managed to make it into work on Thursday and Friday.

So I decided that not being a big fan of being sick, I'd take care of myself and rest up this weekend, trying to recover. Which wasn't a lot of fun. I wasn't sick enough to actually be sick (you know, bed ridden), but just sick enough that everyone in awhile I'd just get this general feeling of schleppiness. The worst thing, though, is that I was just well enough to feel completely energetic and up. So I spent most of my time like the proverbial rat in a cage all weekend, too afraid of feeling worse to do anything, too well to really be sick.

The worst part, by Sunday afternoon, I thought I had beaten it. I mean, I spent pretty much all day Friday and Saturday doing nothing but reading and watching TV. And then, right in the middle of seeing "Jarhead," I got that feeling again that I'm sick.

And it's like, if I'm going to do nothing on a weekend to try and recover and not be sick only to find out that I'm still sick by the end of the weekend, I should have gone out.