I was really wanting to write something witty and light being how this is the Xmas season and folks get depressed enough already without someone else finding something to bitch about. And as this is the "season for giving," I didn't want to sound like an ingrate for what I've received.
But dammit, someone gave me a cold.
I imagine I could blame someone in the workplace. Hell, it's probably someone who doesn't even work in my office. It's probably some schmoe with bad hygiene that works four floors above me who I happen to share a vent with. Or maybe it's because of my busy lifestyle: Two late nights of hockey games, one late night of karaoke DJing and every night up late playing video games (damn Baldur's Gate!). But for whatever reason, I've been blessed with a visit by the Phlegm Fairy. He's just like his cousin, the Tooth Fairy, except his outfit is green and he leaves his presents in your sinuses instead of under your pillow.
And while there are some people in the world who can manage perfectly when they are sick, I am not one of them. It's not that I moan and complain about being sick (unless there's an outside shot I'm gonna get some pampering out of it), I just can't hide being sick. To start, my voice usually drops down into my socks. When I speak, people always look at me like they're expecting my head to spin around 360 degrees and for me to start spewing pea soup. The real kicker though is trying to hork whatever is clogging my lungs out. That noise alone could change the course of mighty rivers and scare children under the age of three. With the kind of noise
I've make today I could've expelled a mastodon from my lungs. And judging by the way my throat feels, I think I have.
All in all, I guess I don't have it too bad. It could be a lot worse. I mean, at least I don't have diarrhea . . .
Oh great, speak of the devil . . .
Gotta go!
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