Because I'm sick. Sick, sick, sicky, sickly, sick.
This cold is making the rounds at our house. Donna was the first host, I got it next and Ben has the "light" version of it. And make all the man-cold references you want, but this one is kicking my butt.
- up for an hour, down for two sick.
- stay home from work for two days sick.
- delirious thrashing around in bed at 3:00 AM and 3:00 PM sick.
- lose that 5 pounds you've been meaning to lose for six months in two days sick.
- never get too far from a box of Kleenex sick.
I'm sure you've all been there.
There was a time last night at about 3:00 AM where I thought, ya know, I'm okay with dying. Death actually sounds pretty good right now. Because this sucks! My whole face hurt, my eyes were watering at random, my nostrils took turns getting plugged up. Heck, my teeth hurt. What's with that? There is no joy in sickness.
So I float about the house in various states of consciousness, drippiness and dress and the dog looks at me with confusion, like, what are you doing here? Wanna go for a walk, since you're here? How about a walk, Dad? Got any food. Life goes on in dog world.
I've taken to sleeping in the extra bedroom to spare my wife exposure to the sneezing snot fest. I feel like the English Patient and my room is taking on that "lived in" look. I'm currently taking:
500 mg Vitamin C
Tea with Honey
Gallons of water
I've tried gargling with salt water, gargling with mouthwash and even garlic toast. (Garlic is some sort of miracle cure, I'm told.) As I write this there is a glass of water, an empty teacup, a half box of Kleenex and half a dozen used tissues by my side.
I'm telling you, it's Ebola-like. And if I shouldn't make it, divide my fishing stuff between my brother Paul and my friend, Steve.
Right now, I'm crawling back to bed.