Why they call it comfort food

If you are what you drink, I must've had a few glasses of cough-up-your-lungs this weekend, because that's all I did on Sunday night. It was one of those restless evenings where all you want to do is sleep, but that's near impossible when that tickle in your throat refuses to settle down. My body finally knocked out from exhaustion around 3am on Monday morning, and I woke up at 7ish feeling like I had fell off the back of a truck. Everything ached. My core muscles were spent, and I was in pain just getting out of bed to brush my teeth. I'm the stubborn type who hates taking any kind of medicine because it never really helps anyway. Claritin, Zyrtec and all those other allergy pills do absolutely nothing for my uncontrollable sneezing during allergy season, and Robitussin hasn't calmed a cough for me since kindergarten. I just suffer through the icky-ness and let my immune system do it's job. So that's what my Monday was spent doing: suffering, and sitting on my sofa, looking out on the patio at the view above. To make things worse, I caught the worst headache later that afternoon [caffeine withdrawal] [how am I supposed to run to Starbucks when I can barely get up to pee?], and even after I caved and popped some ibuprofen the dang thing just would not go away. Around 9:30pm I crept under my covers and closed my eyes for the night.

I woke up the next morning feeling a good 70% better than the night before. I jumped on my computer, caught up on work and started to get back in my usual routine. By the end of the day, a deep hunger hit me, and I met up with a friend for dinner at Copeland's Cheesecake Bistro. Pasta with Grilled Chicken as the main & Bread Pudding for desert... it's after meals like these that I remember why they call it comfort food. I'm already looking forward to my leftovers for lunch.

♥