Thoughts from Quarantine

Now, just days before my little sister's wedding, I've come down with a cold. I'm drinking tons of herbal tea, and I even broke down and took a decongestant (you know they're bad when they force someone with typically low blood pressure into a high range... ick! I hate that) in an effort to mitigate the effects. I'm looking for a place for little Zoey to go tomorrow so I don't infect her (and thus, the whole family). I came into work a couple hours late so I could sleep in, but tonight I have to buck up buckle down and clean house before Aunt Susie comes. Thank goodness for Lysol Wipes! I even have lunch plans tomorrow that I'm loathe to cancel, but depending on how I feel tonight, I may need to. I don't want to infect anyone-- especially my lunch date/hanger-outer. Well, whatever he is. I just don't want him sick because of me. I'm hoping this is just a 24-hour-bug and that the Zicam will work its magic.
Still, I've had a little time over the last few days to think about things that make me happy. Just random stuff, you know?
On Sunday, I was driving to church and burst out laughing thinking about how my little brother used to just say the word "Shamble" all the time. He'd call me up and that's all he'd say. I mean, it's kind of stupid, and I guess you'd have to be there, but I busted up.
Later, I had a laugh thinking about being in Spain with Sokphal. Poor Phal was probably utterly freaked out because I'd had a bit of a panic attack the night before-- due to no sleep in about 5 days, I'd say. But we flew into Santiago de Compustela, and ended up at a cathedral pilgrims absolutely crawl to. This nice priest made us "Embrace the Mantle" of St. James. I didn't really want to because I didn't want to do something sacrilegious-- not that I think God would mind, but I wouldn't want to offend my Catholic friends by doing it. Still, the priest basically took my arms and made me do it. It was odd, but I appreciated it.
And then this morning I started thinking about my friend Hilary. HFSZ IS really funny, but while I was lounging around, trying to get up the energy to start my day, I was thinking about what a superstar she is. She used to (and still, often when I read her blog) has me on the floor laughing about something or other, but what I really appreciate is how she's worked so many little (and big) miracles in my life. When I was a super senior at BYU, I'd mentioned to her how I'd never been asked to a formal dance (with the exception of my best friend Justin in high school, but I made him ask the foreign exchange student Asli Yuksil because she'd been telling me for months how she dreamed of going to Prom with him), and just days later, our very handsome mutual friend Steve Petty was asking me via paper airplane to Homecoming. A year later when I was coming home from Poland with not a clue about a job, Hil was the one telling me about the PR opening at Excel Entertainment Group that would become my career for the next couple years. When I was heartbroken, she was the one yelling the loudest for the beheading of the pain-inflicter. When I'm happy, she celebrates with me. Now she lives two states away and is having some hard times of her own. I wish I could be there to do something for her, but in the meantime I'm praying that she'll have her own Hilary to swoop in and bring her some comfort.
Being sick affords one the opportunity to slow down, at least. Well, it just demands it, I suppose. I don't have time to slow down. I've got too much to do! But worrying about my burning throat and remembering random happinesses is a good alternative to preparing for the nerve-wracking lunch tomorrow and what I should wear. By the way, what SHOULD I wear? I mean, assuming I'm not on my deathbed and go?