Home Sick

I started getting a cold last Sunday, but I ignored its visit all week.  It was an exceptionally busy week, with class or social visits every night after work, and I didn't even have time to exercise, let alone pay attention to the cold. Unfortunately, I guess it feels neglected, and yesterday it started acting out and announcing its intention to stay another week.  So, like the good host I should have been when it first dropped by, I canceled everything last night and today (dancing with friends, climbing, a superbowl party), and promised my cold we'd spend some quality time together.  "No work," I said. "I promise.  We'll hang out in pajamas and drink copious amounts of juice and watch movies.  I won't even leave the house, except maybe to buy toilet paper.  Surely you won't begrudge me toilet paper after all I'm giving up for you this weekend, right?"  It's not a bad cold, really, just whiny.  I don't really want it following me around for another week demanding attention.  

So far today my cold and I have slept in, watched Netflix, done the dishes, watched Netflix, cleaned my room (including vacuuming and dusting and changing the sheets), watched Netflix, filed my taxes, watched Netflix, gone to the store for toilet paper, shined my work shoes, and watched Netflix.  The food theme for our day together has been "Things that are served in bowls."  We've eaten oatmeal, yogurt, ice cream, green beans, tomato soup, and we'll probably hit the ice cream again before we retire early.  

In case you wanted a sneak peak into my cold's and my fun-filled day of bonding, here are some pictures:

The clean room:

I even washed a few baseboards.  This one used to be nearly black.

I didn't take a picture of the dishes or my taxes, but I did take a lot of pictures of my shoes.  I hardly ever shine my shoes, maybe twice a year, but I love having freshly shined shoes even more than I love having a full drawer of clean underwear (good thing, too, because I didn't do laundry today).  Polishing your shoes takes years of wear off their appearances.  Besides, since I mostly wear the same three pairs of shoes to work everyday, I've been growing steadily more embarrassed by their shoddy appearance.  

Here is the cast of characters.  My boring, but extremely comfortable, work shoes:

This is the oldest pair.  I've had them for nearly five years now.  They taught with me in Japan, and everywhere I've taught or worked since.  Even though they're not the cutest pair of work shoes I own, they are my favorite.  

This is a pair my sister handed down to me just a month or so ago.  She took great care of them, but I've already managed to put some wear on the toes.

I bought this pair just a year ago, but I've already trashed them pretty good.  The scratches show up glaringly against the black leather. 

But don't worry, I have polish.  And my daddy taught me how to shine shoes when I joined the debate squad.    Don't make fun of my weird facial expression; I've spent all day bonding with my cold.  

After some polishing and buffing, my rejuvenated shoes posed for an "after" shot on the rug I overspent my budget on last month:

I even convinced them to sit for a panorama shot, and the camera magically made an extra 3/4 of a shoe appear.

Well, that's the end of the tale of my superbowl Sunday.  Also, I promise I'm done anthropormorphizing colds and footwear.  I'll leave you with a pictures of why I love my apartment.  This is the view out one of my bedroom windows: