I hate being sick. I've got this crappy cold right now, and the weather matches. It's cloudy and cold today too. It feels more like December minus the holiday cheer. But if I went to Wal-mart, I could stand in their holiday section and pretend it was Christmas.
It is nice having a live in nurse though. She's very attentive to me. I'm spoiled. Of course, she's at work right now tending to the sick people she actually gets paid to look after. I'm on my own for the day. Which means I'll probably just lay on the couch with my box of Kleenex and my laptop.
I actually had lunch plans today, but I'm thinking I'll cancel. No one wants to be around a sick person, especially when they're eating. It's gross to hear someone snorting snot when you're trying to enjoy a meal. Plus, when I went to work yesterday, everyone told me to stay away and said I had cooties. It was just like first grade all over again. Except this time, some chick actually had a can of Lysol that she was spraying in the air as I passed by her.
My God, woman! I have a cold, not the Ebola virus. It's not like I was coughing up phlegm globbers and spitting them on her desk. And how come whenever you get sick, the first thing someone asks you is this, "so where'd you get that?" How the fuck should I know? It's not like I had the germs analyzed and traced back to the source. If I knew where I got it, I might have been able to prevent getting it in the first place. And if I say, "I got it from Joe," will they all turn on him and beat the crap out of him for making me sick? Does it really matter where I got the cold from?
Sometimes I think it'd be really funny to answer that question with something gross or weird. Like I was licking a toilet or I must have picked up the virus in my basement lab where I've got vials of contagious diseases stored.
Can you tell I'm cranky when I'm sick? Just a little bit...
But it's just because I'm a big baby. I hate not being able to breathe and stuff. You don't realize how much fun breathing is until you can't do it. You probably wouldn't count breathing as one of life little pleasures, but trust me it is. We take it for granted.
Yesterday I was feeling so crappy at work that I called my mom and asked her to bring me soup for lunch. I figured Mommy would make me feel better. But she told me that was Natalie's job now. I was denied! But I couldn't call Natalie for soup because she was working. So I had to settle for a sandwich instead. But that's just not the same.
And when Natalie got home from work, she did offer me soup, but the moment passed and I wanted pizza instead. Does soup actually cure a cold or is that an old wives tale? Pizza didn't seem to cure me, but I wasn't hungry anymore. That's something.
Anyway, this is my whiny sick post and I'm sure it's boring as hell. I've actually got other stuff to talk about too, but I'll put it in it's own post. This one has germs. No sense contaminating my other topics of conversation with my cooties....
-evil_twin LA



