Seriously. Since Eric Mangini was named head of the New York Jets, I’ve been wondering when Sports Illustrated would do a story on the little liberal arts college with the big sports cred. The Hartford Courant is no Sports Illustrated, but at least someone is finally sitting up and taking notice: “Wesleyan Grads Excel — But In Professional Sports?”

This was supposed to be a weekend of relaxation: we were headed to Boston for a concert with some friends and then Rudi would head north to ski while I headed down to Connecticut to visit the family and maybe some friends.

Friday morning dawned and I immediately knew I was in trouble. The tickle in the back of the throat was becoming a full-on cold. I went back to sleep, took some cold meds, and then slept through the entire state of Maryland.

As we reached Boston, it was time to replenish the medicine, but I could tell things were not looking great. I spent the entire KT Tunstall concert (she was amazing, btw!) curled up on a sofa on the balcony of the theater, feeling hot and achy. By the middle of the night I was waking up every ten minutes to pull the covers back up to my chin because my body was under the impression that Sam and Alexis’ spare bedroom was freezing. It wasn’t, but my fever had spiked.

I was okay the next morning, but by the time I caught up with my folks at the Holyoke mall, I was slipping downward again, fighting off chills and hot flashes. Mum and Dad tucked me under blankets in Gramma’s sitting room and let me doze away the afternoon.

Last night we watched In Her Shoes, which was charming in a way that belied its box office reception, while eating pizza in front of a crackling fire.

Today I started to feel a bit better — in time to have one of Dad’s cranberry scones, some of Mum’s yummy Chicken Divan, and a piece of Gramma’s coffee cake and to open some fun birthday presents from Mum and Dad.

But feeling better is not being well, and I was asleep in the car before we were ten minutes down the road. Luckily, we were home by midnight, so after an hour of putting things away, reading the mail and email, feeding the cats, and winding down, I’m headed to bed.

Back to jury duty in the morning!