It’s 2:00 AM. I woke up 45 minutes ago. I have a cold. I hate colds.
I am weakened. My internal clock has spun upside down. I fell asleep on the couch before 9:00 PM.
A confession first. As colds go, this one isn’t terrible. It still sucks. And, who knows, in a few days it could blossom?
Last night it felt like a golf ball was in my throat! Every swallow hurt.
Helaine has been Florence Nightingale. Hot tea. Lozenges. Limited sympathy.
I was an awful dinner partner, even if Michael’s company and the pizza were both excellent. Helaine said she could see it in my fidgeting.
Every cold is different. Cold symptoms evolve. Isn’t that why it hasn’t been cured yet?
I stopped smoking cigarettes over thirty years ago. Smoker’s colds were the worst.
This one is losing its grip on my throat and moving to my nose. Five or six more days to go.
I can’t call out sick. I’m already staying home!
There’s nothing to do but put up with it and kvetch.