Burning that candle

Shame on me for being a sporadic blogger. I shift the blame for that sin, however, to the fact that I have been doing penance for a second sin: failing to take proper care of myself.

Take this weekly schedule: full-time, job, 15 hours of baking & pastry classes, one intense bellydance class, requisite daily dog walks, morning workouts five days a week, studying, tending my community garden plot, sewing a costume for whatever bellydance performance is looming on the horizon, (sadly minimal) meal preparation, enough cleaning to prevent the apartment from becoming a total stye, laundry, and daily grooming (so I don't look like I live in a stye).

Then, add to that my three consecutive nights of sleep deprivation due to the aforementoned baking & pastry classes (which don't end until well past my normal bedtime), and stack on two more as a result of two back-to-back rockin' U2 concerts. Is it any wonder I was nearly knocked to my knees by a nasty cold.

When I woke up two mornings after the second U2 concert feeling like my throat had been stripped with sandpaper, I suspected it was too much to hope that it was a slighly delayed reaction to screaming my devoted lungs out when my boys were on stage.

My suspictions were confirmed the following morning, when I was greeted upon awakening by a sore throat + stuffy nose.

Now, almost two weeks later, I am still not completely recovered. It probably didn't help that during the worst three days of my illness, I had to deal with midterms (two days of practical exams, and one day of written exams). And yes, I feel as guilty as hell that I went to class while sick (I did work from home, however, to protect my co-workers from the worst of my contagiousness).

So, as I battle the dregs of coughing and occasional nose-blowing, I resolve to sleep more and eat better. And to take pity on He Who Puts Up With Me, who started developing his own sore throat the other day...sorry, babe!