The winter crud smacked me hard, and I ended up missing two and a half days of work because of it. Ugh. I called in again Monday morning when I woke up with a fever over 101. Ugh. I hate being sick.

But I'm pretty much over the worst of it now, though I have a lingering cough that's very annoying. Feels like a rock sitting on my chest all the time. I'm working out again, but taking it super slowly--not that I have a choice; my energy level has been pretty low. But at least I got sick now instead of in two weeks when I'll be going to DisneyWorld with Kent. Who knows, maybe I'll have even gotten rid of my cough by then.

In the spirit of ultimate writing avoidance, I went fishing this morning. Actually it ended up being not much more than casting practice since I didn't even get a nibble, and I am now convinced that there are no fish in all of Lake Pontchartrain. The Hwy 11 bridge over the lake is closed for a month for drawspan repairs, so many of the locals are using it as a giant pier. In fact the lady at the bait shop this morning went on at length about how people were pulling in lots of specks and reds and flounder from the bridge, so I went ahead and bought some shrimp, parked at the end of the bridge, and walked a ways out into the fog (wooo surreal... disembodied section of bridge in the fog, totally quiet and not another soul in sight) and started fishing. Over the next couple of hours I tried both sides of the bridge, farther from the shore and closer, I changed rigs about a dozen times, tried bait, then lures, then bait on lures, then finally by the time the fog had burned off I came to the stunning realization that there were no fish in the lake.

Maybe tomorrow I'll see if they've put fish in the lake yet.