High C

So, you know how sometimes you are singing, and you want to hold a note really long, just to keep up with the song you are mimicking or whatever, and you can feel the air depleting from your lungs, but you are stubborn and know you can just keep going if you stay calm and focus? And you go go go and the end is kinda wheezy, but you made it way further than you thought before your voice actually petered out?

That is how life has been these past few weeks, and not unpleasantly so. Hello holidays and your parties and baking and holiday charity shopping and oh, that thing called work... I have been spinning right round, complete with impromptu sleepovers (thanks T and Co!) and weekend guests (salud Mish and Crosby!) and not to forget airport pick-ups, drop-offs, and seeing 2012.

And then one night, picking up odds and ends at Ross to finish up the Adopt-a-Family project my work was doing, I felt the wheezing. The proverbial air was waning waning in my lungs, and I was running on fumes. This occurred to me in the jackets aisle. And so I pushed on, focusing intently, and finished what I was doing, put gas in the car, and came home...

... and now have the worst cold I have had in a long long time (it was, indeed, inevitable). In fact, my actual wheezing self managed to make it to my niece's Nutcracker performance today, but Tequila Night is a no go. No, no, it is not the swine... but holy hell, this is sucktastic.

And now, let me enlighten you with some pictorial representations of my path to said cold. Consider these photos my loooooooong drawn out note. Beyonce ain't got nuthin on me!