The perfect alibi

My attempt to hop back on the blogging bandwagon last week was stymied by the whirlwind arrival of a late-summer cold. And, as much as colds are icky and annoying, isn't there also something sort of nice about having an excuse to indulge yourself? Anything you'd normally push yourself to do becomes something you can rationalize out of, because the universe has blessed you with a cold, the perfect all-encompassing no-questions-asked alibi.

Sure I can wear this ratty t-shirt to the grocery store, because I'm sick and who cares? Macaroni and cheese and mashed potatoes for dinner? I'm sick, I deserve it. In bed at 9pm? I should really take it easy, because I'm sick. Does anyone else feel this way?

So, I've been laying low. Getting back to my autumn ritual of tea-drinking, for one. Enforcing lots of quiet contemplative time for hand-stitching.*

Occasionally emerging from the bedroom to bake plum cakes and bring them to neighborhood block parties.
Settling into the swing of aforementioned second job, and cheerfully confronting questions I never thought I'd ask. (Where did all this cash in my wallet** come from, and what do I do with it?)

And getting right back to bed, knees folded, needle in one hand, tea cup in the other.

* The quilt is a spin-off on this one. It's for my cousin, for Christmas. Yes, I know it's September.

** When I say "all this cash," I mean like fourteen dollars, okay? Maybe enough for some fancy-pants hand lotion, or half a new pair of earrings. Hey, it's the little things.