What you may not know, dear Reader (if you really exist), is that I have a beast of an immune system. After a lifetime of endless sinus crap and the new addition of migraine attacks, it takes a lot for anything else to bypass my white cell bouncers. So when I get things, like whooping cough or food poisoning or whatnot, it tends to be on the doozy end of the spectrum. Or maybe I just get really whiney when I can make the problem go away with Excedrin.
Anywho...I have a cold. It's really unattractive- my nose oscillates between stuffed and runny, I have a cough, I did have a sore throat, and I've been sneezing like an allergy-ridden bunny. (Yes, a bunny. I have, apparently, "cute" or "polite" sneezes.) And I'm tired. Oh yes, I'm a walking, talking cold-zombie. And in the midst of my pity party, I felt the need for my "sick" food. Was it ginger ale? No. Crackers? No. Soup? No. My sick food is a Starbucks frappucino. Yes, you read that right. When I'm sick, I reach for a clear plastic cup and a green straw.
I have work this afternoon, and the Lord baby Jesus help my poor student. I will smile bravely through exhaustion-rimed eyes, a runny nose, and an uncontrollable urge to cough up my Eve's apple. I will bring my sanitizing gel and my water bottle. But on the inside, I just want to curl up under my warm blankets and sleep this cold away.
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