Things About Having A Cold

I kept telling people that I was sick. Everybody else was, and it seemed silly that I wouldn't be coming down with it, especially when Aiden was dying of the plague and drank out of my cherry pepsi at the movie - or when Andrea pulled that one giant booger out of Calvin's nose and we aren't sure where it ended up. There is no way to avoid exposure, and hence, succumbing to the various and assorted community diseases going around. But for all of the times I have said: "yep, this is it. I am finally going down!" so far this year I haven't fallen prey to anything.

Yesterday I started to really feel it. I woke up with that thick stuff in the back of my throat and the sense of impending doom. But, having cried wolf often enough this year I decided to keep it to myself. Plus I had consumed enough beer the night before and danced for A Very Long Time, and it was hard to tell where those aches and pains stopped and the viral ones began. But this morning the telltale drip onto my pillow of an unstoppable nose sealed the deal. This time for reals, I am going down. It's almost a relief. Like giving into an inevitable death that has just taken it's sweet frakking time.

The thing about a good old fashioned head cold is that it makes you notice All of The Bad Things In Your Life that you didn't notice before. Suddenly the daily suffering you do is highlighted by an accompanying misery. Like the entirely long walk from my bed to the couch. It's insufferable. I thought I would never get here. And how cold the tap water is. It's like the water nymphs of Northport are trying to kill me with brain freeze. Or how flipping heavy a bag of pellets is. Brutal. Life is especially hard when you have a cold. The tap-tap-tapping of my keyboard keys and the snoring of an old hound dog are like machine gun fire raining down from a 747 about ten feet over my head. Why are you all so loud? And since when? My legs muscles and butt muscles and those little tiny muscles just above my hips that I had no idea existed are screaming at me about the folly of a dance marathon on the night before Viral Invasion.

Soon, Aspen will be home from school to practice her violin. My eyes and ears are already bleeding in anticipation. And thank goodness there are two weeks worth of leftovers for dinner because cooking would be unthinkable. I was able to get the rest of my stories written with only a few tears this morning, but I did quit an entire job because it just seemed like WAY TOO MUCH now that I have a cold. (Don't worry, it wasn't lucrative) Even my sweatpants are offensive today. They either squeeze my ankles or they aren't soft enough. I managed to put a bra on to go to the post office and remember why life in the outside world just isn't worth living. One more push today to deliver a check next door and then I am out. It's all about top ramen and Criminal Minds and probably some saltines if they aren't too crunchy - and since those are pretty much my favorite things in the whole world, it turns out that I don't actually mind having a cold after all. :)

if you need me I'll be right here, with Truck.

Things About Being Sick

I felt it creeping up on me last night. I will admit that there have been girl's nights before that involved smoking a cigarette or two, Cloves of course, in the pinnacle of my poor intake decisions of the evening. Last night I didn't take a single puff, but my voice started waning and there was this burning sensation in the back of my throat that was ominous... and then a cough. A sneaky little cough, like it thought no one would notice. By midnight, when everybody straggled reluctantly home to kids that were probably asleep in their dirty play clothes without brushed teeth and after a dinner of macaroni and hot dogs, if they got dinner at all, I was left alone with a small furnace smoldering about half way down my throat and up into the back of my nasal passages. I took Nyquil, to be sure that I wouldn't feel a thing while I slept. I didn't, until I was awakened at 8:30 AM by a small black dog jumping with all four paws onto my sore left boob. That was enough feeling to make up for the peaceful night. I tried to get my eyes opened when Josh responded to my hoarse cry of pain, but I think I only got my mouth open a little and the fumes from my Nyquil breath soldered my eyelids shut, and drove Josh back out of the room. Apparently he had already been for a run and showered and chased kids off to school and that's what Emmy was coming to tell me. I wanted to crawl back under my blankets and die, but a full bladder and some other compelling feminine issues required that I get up and shower Exactly At That Moment. Hot water seemed like a good idea anyway, or it did until it ran out about 4 minutes into my shower. Did I mention that it was nice and chilly this morning? To be honest I don't really remember how I got from cold shower to sweatpants to couch, procuring my electric germ blanket for it's annual inaugural run along the way. There's a chance I might be delirious, I am not sure, but I did find coffee, which MacKenzie had already made, mercifully.

I had only been sitting on the couch for 7 minutes, trying to read the 11 texts and 14 Facebook notifications that had bombarded my phone while I slept, when Josh shoved a 5 inch thick text book with TINY print and asked me to drill him on ALS drugs. Seriously? Does he not smell the residual Nyquil on my breath? And that is AFTER I brushed my teeth!! Mom wants me to pick flight times for a trip to Seattle in October, and I am supposed to choose a bank in Colville that isn't the (only) credit union because one of the tellers made Josh mad by telling him their policy on check cashing. He says policies don't make friends in the business world. I told him that was an interesting concept and he should totally understand why the kids don't like him, given that it is also true in the home/relationships world. I also had to schedule a doctors appointment, remember how to turn on the germ blanket, call the state insurance line to hear, in a very nice voice, about a 51 minute wait time, and decide what Aspen's favorite color is. These are all very complex things for a semi-early morning with no breakfast, a bad cold, moderate -to-severe anemia, and did I already mention the temperature drop this morning?

If someone would fix me up a big, steamy plate of corned beef hash with a couple of over-easy eggs and some sourdough toast, all would be well in the world. I shouted my order to the universe but all I got were some weird stares from the dogs, who are very excited that the germ blanket is up and running again. Did I mention how cold it is this morning? I think Truck is mildly hypothermic (well he's sleeping a lot...)  because Josh picked up all of the blankets, and my coffee has a layer of ice over it already. Rude.  This day is destined for the greatness of couch time, Pinterest, and wishing for food that will not be delivered to my living room, despite the earnestness of my desire.