Congested Musings

I have a cold.

I don't know how this happened. I thought it was just allergies - stirring up 2 weeks of dust as we rearranged our living room. But alas, it is a cold. I hate colds. My feeling is that if you're going to be sick, then you should be pitiable - fever, moaning, pale and death-like expression. You get none of this with a cold. Instead you talk funny, have a red nose, and constantly blow that red nose. You might also get the puffy eyes, and, if you're lucky, you get the out-of-touch-with-reality feeling (which can be brought on with the appropriate meds if you're not congested enough to get this on your own). If your cold brings on a sinus infection, then you might be lucky enough to get a fever. But it is a pathetic fever, rarely higher than 101 degrees. Who can feel sorry for you if you're not even sick enough to be sent home from school?

But it's not the pity that that's important. Well, it kinda is. But more important is the justification for lying in bed all day watching soap operas and talk shows or reading and watching old movies. When you are sick, you should be able to take the day off. Colds aren't sick enough to justify the day off. You may feel like crap, but that doesn't matter because it's just a cold. You are still expected to go to work, be productive, and be unbitchy.

I don't really enjoy being vomitously sick to the point that people make a cross with their fingers and back away when they see me. I actually rarely get sick - usually just a cold. I can't remember the last time I was really sick (of course, that could just be the congestion clogging my memory lanes). And I am thankful for the good health that keeps me from looking like death. But I still hate colds. It just feels like purgatory - you're not really sick and you're not really healthy. You're in limbo, waiting for the snot monster that has invaded your brain to move on.

If you know anyone in the market for a good snot monster, let me know. I have one that has overstayed its welcome.