I was feeling extremely nasty and gross yesterday, which ended with me sleeping for nearly 20 hours. It was simultaneously awful and blissful. My friend Lauren called during the time I was conscious (about a four hour period from ten to one) and asked if I wanted to come sledding today.
Sledding, I thought. Huh. Sledding...sledddddd.....sledding...
"Okay," I told her, with not a thought as to what the word "sledding" really incorporated. Snow. Wet snow. Speeding down a hill at breakneck speeds. Cold. Wet.
The first thing I said to my mum when I got up this morning was, "Hey, I'm going sledding with Lauren."
She kind of gave me a weird look, seeing as she came into my room last night when I was barely coherent and knew just how sick I was. But she's learned not to argue with me about things like that. And in my defense, I was feeling better.
So in typical topsy-turvy Jo form, I journeyed out into the cold wearing thermals, jeans, a coat, and a matching hat/glove/scarf set. (Sometimes I'm astounded at my own stupidity.)
It was really fun; I went off this killer jump twice and got some major air, but soundly knocked my head the second time around; flew screaming down the hill with Lauren; had a dangerous snowball fight; tackled a kid who weighs half as much as me and still lost; and got soundly wet.
Now my cough is twice as bad as it was last night, I have (had; Ibuprofen is better than a boyfriend) a headache the size of Toronto, and I feel all-around gross.
And do you want to know what the funniest/sickest part is? I'd do it again. Yeah, my friends are that cool.