The old maxim says "starve a fever, feed a cold." Well that is what I was doing all of last week. I started out with a snuffle Monday afternoon, gradually growing to a hoarse throat, daily NyQuil hangovers, and putrid mucus. I. Felt. Awful. I do not get sick very often, so I took this as an opportunity to give myself a little bit of a break. Unfortunately, I got in exactly zero workouts for a total of zero miles. For the most part, I ate healthy. I had chicken noodle soup one night, beef and salad another night... one night I had sushi because I convinced myself the wasabi would clear my sinuses. It did not, but it was delicious none the less. The feeding of my cold culminated with a homemade pizza on Saturday. I made apple cinnamon pancakes for breakfast, and noticed my bread maker sitting on the counter lonely and neglected. I knew what I had to do. I pulled out the ingredients to make a half wheat flour, half white flour pizza dough and got to baking. Holy deli...
Musings of a Christ-following mom of boys, devoted wife, and dreamer, figuring out how to be a good parent and steward of the arrows in my quiver while navigating the world of indie publishing.