Sober January (#Drynuary) came too late for me.
The nonstop drinking, the cookie binge, the wacky sleep schedule—it all caught up to me on Sunday afternoon. Sure, I had imbibed a bit too much Saturday night, but this was no mere hangover. Around 4pm, on my fifth episode of some unmemorable real-estate reality TV show, I felt the tingle in my throat that could mean only one thing. A cold was coming.
And come it did. I worked from home on December 31, and managed to attend a house party on New Year’s Eve. I even dragged my sick butt to breakfast on New Year’s Day (determined to be in bounds for Austerity January due to everyone needing greasy breakfast on January 1). But after a much-needed visit to the grocery store, I landed on the couch. My sinuses felt like they were full of wet concrete. My throat burned. My voice quit. I chugged some NyQuil and took to my chambers early.
The statistics on today:
Booze consumed: Zero*
*Yeah, wiseass, there is alcohol in NyQuil, but it’s used to keep the active ingredients in a liquid solution and I took one standard adult dose. Come look at the number of Kleenex in my trash can: I’m not playing at being under the weather.
Meals out: Zero*
*I did buy a coffee at Dunkin Donuts, but paid with a gift card.
Cheese consumed: Two slices on my sandwich.
Veggies consumed: Carrots with lunch; homemade veggie chili for dinner tonight.
Fitness: Does coughing count?