OK, common cold. You win.

(DayQuil -- fighter of the NyQuil! Champion of the sun!)

Nightman: What's wrong with you? You sound like hell.
Me: Oh, I'm fine. I'm not sick. I just can't breathe.
Nightman: You call a doctor yet?
Me: No! I'm not SICK. I just can't breathe.
Nightman: I don't know, Jacque. To me, "not being able to breathe" is something worth seeing a doctor about.

Monday is my cutoff. If I still can't breathe by Monday, I'm finally sucking it up and calling the doctor, where I'll lose $20 and about four hours of my time for her to see me for three minutes and write me a prescription.

I thought I was coming out of it, but in the last couple of days, my breathing capacity has severely diminished. And I'm back to the DayQuil and NyQuil. In a moment of genius yesterday, I became convinced I had allergies and went out and bought Claritin.

I'm clearly not a doctor.

Maybe it's stress. Maybe it's just the lack of an idle weekend at home. I traveled for something like four weeks straight -- Cincinnati, New Martinsville, Harrisburg, Hershey, Morgantown -- and although each of those trips were fantastic and fun, it didn't leave much time for rest with a cold that developed BEFORE I went to Cincinnati.

This weekend I've "grounded" myself. I'm not going out unless it's necessary, except for the gym. I know, I probably shouldn't even be working out, but I'm on a good streak lately and I feel bad when I miss it. And I love my gym. If you're one of my Charleston readers and you want a gym that you'll be in love with, I suggest Capitol Fitness. I giant heart how it's got great Pilates classes and it's never crowded. It also smells really nice, which was quite different than what I experienced at the Y on Tuesday night. Ick.

So, the grounding begins. I'm going to spend it on my couch watching movies in glorious high-definition quality and working on my show.

Speaking of my show, some very, very exciting new developments are in the works and it's HUGE! I don't want to talk a whole lot about it right now for fear of jinxing it, but it's VERY good and we're beside ourselves. Or, as co-host Jeff would say, we're "shitting rainbows."

Or, like my favorite Demotivator says: "Teamwork: A few harmless flakes working together can unleash an avalanche of destruction."

But now, I go fight the post office. Again. I f-ing lost a roll of stamps, and I'm still mad about it because I'd used TWO. That's $41.00 right out the window. Gah!!

Is there such thing as a "super strain"?

I told Julie that I think I got some sort of super strain of cold because my trusted ally, NyQuil, isn't even helping me now. NyQuil is powerless against this cold.

I can't breathe. No matter what I do, I can't breathe. It's just not happening. I've got so much to do before I head out for Thanksgiving it's unreal, and here I type at 6:30 p.m. about to take a shower and go to bed so I can make it into work tomorrow.

I didn't work today. This might be my first sick day since I got my wisdom teeth out in 2005. I couldn't do it. I thought I could go in at noon, and I couldn't. I'm tired and weak now from putting on a hat to go to the store for cat food so my animal doesn't starve. Poor Inky. I mean, I think she could miss a meal or two, but she tends to be a far more agreeable creature with a full belly. (As I type this, she finished eating and she's curled up purring like she's the happiest cat in West Virginia ...)

But now, I give NyQuil a chance to NOT let me down again. I'd hate to have it fail me after such a long time together.