Yesterday afternoon I was walking my dogs in a tee shirt and shorts while it was in the 70s. Temp then dropped by about 50-something degrees and it snowed. So much for separate seasonal wardrobes.
I'm the opposite. If I have even the slightest cold symptoms, before we go to bed I tell my wife: "it's probably ebola. If I die, I want you to know you were the love of my life. My dying wish is that you move to an island in the mediterranian and take a Greek lover. Leave nothing behind for anyone."
It's kind of long, usually lets me get in a hacking cough or two before I'm done.