OK, I confess. I have a cold. I wasn't supposed to get sick because I drink my apple cider vinegar. In fact, I haven't been sick all winter so I was convinced the folk remedy was working, and, in fact, perhaps it was helping to reduce the incidence and severity of the usual common cold. Yet, in the end, perfection will not be mine. As if ever...
But, the thing of it is, I have always had this strange predilection to blame myself whenever I get sick. I don't, like a normal person, think, oh, I got a bug. Instead, I badger myself for some self-perceived bad habit or behavior. Even now, truth be told, I can't help but think these sniffles could have been avoided.
You see, on Wednesday I came home from work and told Cara that I felt like my body needed a rest. But then I felt like I'd be letting Jake down if I didn't go out to the shed and do the Dan John workout. Well, as I probably mentioned, that particular workout left me feeling like an over-cooked strip of bacon. So naturally my immunities were down, and, bam, here I am, lost in a pile of tissues.
Not that anybody cares. We ALL get colds. But hasn't it been fun, prowling around inside my neurotic mind?