I have a cold.
And I wish I could say it was from recklessly kissing cute boys in the snow.
But alas it's not.
I'm such a wuss when it comes to being sick. Everyone has to know about it. I'm the worst patient ever. I've headed over to Mum and Dad's with my box of tissues, tail between my legs, hoping to be spoilt with cups of tea and fruit cake . . . oh and Foxtel (if I can peel Dad away from the remote - oh the joys of your Dad taking early retirement!)
On a brighter note, I'm researching flights to New Zealand for a dear friend's wedding in December. To say I'm excited is an understatement. Hello hot weather! Hello long lost friends. Hello holiday!
Here's to big dreams (and fresh breath - the garlic I'm downing to rid this cold is a real mood killer . . . hence the lack of kissing cute boys in the snow perhaps?!)