Ho Ho ... (hack) *cough*

And so it begins.

I’ve been fighting this viral thing for a few weeks now and it can’t decide whether it wants to be bronchitis, a hacking chest cold or the sniffles. Last week it had the doctor thinking pneumonia, but thankfully it wasn’t that. All I know is that I’m tired all the time, so bear with me as I try to at least act like I’ve got it together over here.

DH and I went shopping last weekend to look for a new winter coat for me. My day job’s dress code is “business professional” so as much as I’d love to just wear my IU jacket all winter long, I probably shouldn’t. Plus I live in Purdue Boilermaker country, so that might make life just a little too interesting for me right now.

I used to love shopping. Now I’m in a stage where nothing fits and I get really frustrated with the whole experience. Let’s just say the coat shopping was a wash. 150 stores and only one coat fit. And it was too casual and probably not warm enough.

To the day’s credit, it was unseasonably warm and reached the 70s. This would normally be cause for great celebration, especially since it did not rain as forecasted. The bad thing was that all the stores had to fling the doors wide open because it was 100 degrees inside. Nothing like a little heat stroke while trying on winter coats.

And then there was the music. Christmas carols were played at full volume. I know they bring out the Christmas stuff earlier every year. I know it’s November and I really should not have been surprised. I mean, Thanksgiving is only a week and a half away. Still, nothing irks me more than Christmas music when I’m no where near being ready to even contemplate the holidays.

So we have Christmas music, unseasonably warm weather, sucky winter coat shopping, and furnaces going full blast in the stores. Grrrr. It was almost enough for me to start saying, “Bah. Humbug.”

What I probably should have done was gone to Cheeseburger in Paradise last. Cheeseburger in Paradise is a restaurant chain by none other than Jimmy Buffet himself. Kind of a family-friendly version of Margaritaville. For whatever reason, he decided Indianapolis needed one, and I won’t argue the point. Of course, there are a lot of Parrotheads in the area. Anyway, it’s fun and you actually feel like you’ve gotten away for a bit, or at least I do. And I hear the drinks are awesome (I’m still on my meds so no margaritas for me). Someday I will have a couple of those beach chairs they have in the lobby in my yard.

Livin’ on sponge cake …