It's 5 AM! You Should Be Resting!

So, I've got one of those colds -- you know the kind -- where you pray to God that if He will just let you breathe from your nose you will never take it for granted again.  The kind of cold that leaves you feeling like you are developing bed sores everywhere on your body -- including your hair.  The kind of cold that makes your skin so dry you are certain your face is molting and your hands will wind up a pair of shoes. 

My cold means my dogs have not been walked in days.  My cold means that when I opened my drawer the other day, my white socks had taken on every color of the spectrum.  My cold means I had to send my husband to the library to pick up reading material for me before I hopped the Crazy Train out of Dodge -- I made him promise he would not return with more books about 4x4's or "large cars." 

In addition, the medicine I have been taken is making me jittery -- not just "the shakes" here and there, but heart-racing, eyes-rolling, can't sleep jittery.  When I have actually gotten to sleep I have been awakened by my nose leaking like old plumbing, requiring me to dash to the bathroom not only to catch the drip before it falls, but anticipate the miracle of breathing from my nose once again.  No such luck; blowing only assures me my sinuses are stuffed like Christmas goose.  What gives?

Early this morning, after spending the preceding ten hours accumulating 45 minutes of sleep, I gave up.  I crept to the bathroom and began brushing the fur from my teeth, in hopes reading on the sofa would catch the Sandman off guard.  Just as I was cracking open my Harlan Coben (my husband knows me so well) I heard the voice of my mother in my head, "What are you doing?  It's 5 AM!  You should be resting!" 

Let's not forget, when you have a cold, Mom's always there to help.  If you need me, I'll be resting.