Hooray -- I'm sick!

Over the weekend, I stumbled upon a secret ally in weight loss: a cold. I have zero desire to eat and can't taste the chocolate lying in the refrigerator dessert drawer. I don't even want the apple and raisins that sit reprovingly on my desk at work, reminding me I have to consume some fuel whether I want to or not.

True, the illness probably infected everyone else in the Opera Carolina chorus with "H.M.S. Pinafore" looming 10 days away. (It opens May 12.) True, this will incrementally spread to their friends and families, creating a ripple effect of monstrous proportions. True, I am so medicated now that my head feels simultaneously stuffy and foggy.

Also true that I'm not going to feel much like exercising while I can't breathe through my nose and am wheezing through my mouth like an antique calliope. (This makes life tough for my wife, who unreasonably wishes to sleep through the night.)

But for the moment, I'm going to enjoy a lack of desire to pounce on any food I see. And if I keep my good eating habits once I can taste and smell again, maybe this will be a good thing overall. Germs, do your worst!