Scylla and Chabrydis

Work yesterday was rather alright, loads of paper on my desk but nothing overwhelming. Still, I am glad I have half a week to get back into the swing of things before the chaos that is sure to come once we start to move.
The colleague sitting closest to me and who is not idahoswede has a developed a full-blown cold yesterday. In the morning, she was still quite chipper, then started to sneeze, cough and gurgle, and if her flushed cheeks and glazed eyes are any indication, she was running a fever. I was torn between empathy - having a cold is not a nice thing - and annoyance, enveloped as I was in an increasingly large cloud of her virii. I hope she isn't infecting the whole office. If I were her, I would stay at home today, if only to spare my co-workers.

I'm an open-window sleeper. I like hearing the outside, I like the fresh air, and I sleep well with the window open. Even in winter, I keep it open, preferring a hot-water bottle to a stuffy bedroom. But last night, given my recent contact with the cold virus, I thought I should keep it shut and not be in danger of chills. Result: I wake up overheated and with a headache.

Between the rock of fresh air and possible cold and the hard place of warmth and definite headache, I find I prefer the rock. Tonight, the window's open again.