I am back to what I guess we will call normal. I can't taste sweets very well (probably for the best), and yawning and sneezes are excruciating. My throat is still sore, and my energy is still zapped easily, but let's call this more or less normal.
I'm going to start eating responsibly again in the morning - no milkshakes, grits stops at Krystal, etc. The one bad thing, such as it is, is that Coke Zero isn't a good experience at the moment - the fizz seems to attack my scar tissue and that feels weird.
Also, tomorrow I'm back to Zumba. It may put me out for the rest of the evening, but I have to get back in the saddle.
It should be a low-key work week. We're settled in to the new space - no surprises left, and then we're gearing up for a long weekend, and that's a good thing.
I'm still dealing with feeling very emotional at the moment - a cross between the last dregs of recovery, plus PMS. This, too, shall pass.
Jelly, part deux is set for Tuesday night. I've got it on the run, and I hope to make this the last batch for the year. Not that I don't love it, but I have my limits.
I got the house back in order after a week of work, and it's nearly as nice as when Mom and Dad were here. Who are we kidding...they bring something to the table that I could only hope to aspire to.
So now is the part of Sunday evening where I sit back and lament that which I didn't get done, the things I wish I could still do, and the naps left untaken.
Be well and happy.