Got a haircut the other day and I noticed the barber had the sniffles. So now, I have a cold.
Growing up, I don't recall my parents ever succumbing to common ailments. They must've gotten sick, but it seems to me they were always able to carry on as if they weren't. Not me; When I'm sick—even a little sick—I'm sick. I lose my appetite, subside almost exclusively on herbal teas and honey, and find myself incapable of doing anything other than lazing around and being sick.
This especially sucks because I had plans today, and when plans go astray I become unreasonably unhappy (despite plans going astray all the goddamn time, you'd think I'd be used to it by now).
I'm due to be in Houston in a few weeks to lead a comix-related workshop, and I was counting on preparing the exercise(s) today. Three pieces of concept art are also due for a thing asap, as well as some poster art. I need to do three portraits for the podcast series I've been recording, and a handful of illustrations for some of the extra pages that go into the TSG compilation. As well as a few sketches for furniture pieces I'm having custom-built for my place. All of which I'd like to get out of the way before my trip, so I may have to attempt to take after my parents and power through this stupid sickness if I can.