I hate colds

What I was supposed to do this weekend:
-Go to a baby shower
-Plan a birthday party
-Run a whole bunch of errands
-Do something fun with E
-Beta-read something for work
-Work on a plot arc
-Clean up around the house
-Read Book 4 of Les Mis while cleaning up around the house
-Go to church (three-hour block)
-Go to a local play of Legally Blonde: The Musical

What I actually did this weekend:
-thought about sleeping a lot
-thought about sleeping while E had fun dragging out all the Christmas ornaments and lights we haven't put back in storage yet. Twice.
-put back all the Christmas ornaments and lights. Twice.
-slept
-beta-read work thing that took at least three times longer than I had anticipated (to be fair, this was not just because I had a cold)
-came home from church after thirty minutes, when E displayed a tendency to cough over everything, at least thankfully before she coughed on any other person, especially any other kid
-read possibly all the Illyan fic that exists in the world

It could certainly have been very much worse. E spent all day Friday in bed with a fever, and I've heard reports of similar things from other people. I never got worse than "I'm just really not feeling like doing anything at all right now, thanks." And I'm much better today! But still.