Oh my god! I’m sick. I think it’s funny that every time I get sick I say, hey, I never get sick! When in fact, I get a killer cold about twice a year and still it never fails to surprise me.
I’m like the goldfish. Hey, what’s over here! Hey! What’s over here!
Stuart came off 11 straight days of working and sat down on Saturday and promptly started snuffling. I gave him a mega-dose of Vitamin C and fed him dinner and tucked him up for a nap and yes! I did stand around stroking my ego and saying don’t worry, I never get sick. Oh, woe is me.
Sunday morning found me with the throatache of doom, which basically sent me into a dithering panic about it being just like last time, which is a memory I could live without: six days of agonizing throat pain where I did nothing but sit in the armchair trying not to swallow and playing bloons. Followed by moving apartments!
Where was I? Oh right, I had this wicked throatache yesterday which meant lots of Throat Coat and I’m not saying that shit doesn’t work, I’m just saying it tastes like ass on a stick. I hate anise!
So I was scared the wicked throatache was a cousin of May’s infection but lo! The stuffiness and the pressure-packed sinuses kicked in around 10PM so it’s officially just a bitchy common cold. I took some Nyquil – does anyone else think that shit no longer actually dries out their sinuses? – and slept until 6am when I dragged Stuart out of bed to stand next to my while I miserably gargled with salt water and did that Vick’s inhale-thing they say not to do on the tin.
Am I all over the place? That’s because of the 2pm Sudafed cold and sinus non-drowsy I took after waking up. I called my awesome new boss/coworker at 9:30 to say I was going to attempt to drag myself in to work because there’s so much to do and she adamantly refused, telling me I sounded terrible and just to stay home and rest. Yay new boss/coworker of awesomeness! Then I went back to sleep and hello, sudafed, you’re making pretty colors fly all over the room.
Currently, I am both tingly and exhausted. I feel like my half my cells have done E and the other half are 95 years old and want their teeth in. Also one nostril has been blocked up all day while the other has ably handled being blown. I referred to this situation last night to Stuart, saying, “this nostril? the Alamo. This one? Surrender monkeys.”
He didn’t get it right away. I don’t really blame him. I’m in crazytown with no translators.