My delicate condition

So a head cold snuck up on me and bit me in the throat a couple of days ago. One second I was lounging comfortably on my couch, watching Tivo’d episodes of Mystery! (mostly dorky old Sherlock Holmes stuff, but I’m all a-flutter over the return of Foyle’s War for a third season — Yay for more Honeysuckle Weeks!) and the next thing I knew I had this weird tingle in the back of my throat.

Ten minutes later it hurt to swallow.

Twenty minutes later I was on all fours, desperately scrounging for cold medicine in the cabinet under the sink in the bathroom. WHY do I always get sick when I’m entirely out of tea, honey, broth, theraflu, AND ginger ale?

So I suffered through one night of breathing through the delicately woven barbed wire that had been shoved down my throat and struggled to the store the next morning to spend fifty bucks on everything that I thought had a shot at making me feel better — vats of chicken broth, beef broth, tea, honey, throat lozenges, garlic and cayenne for magical heal-all soup, etc. Luckily I was able to call in sick to work both yesterday and today (things are slow around the old shop this week, thank god) so I’ve been able to roll around from bed to couch to bed again, pouring an unending stream of hot tea with honey down my throat.

Honestly. I went through an entire box of ThroatCoat tea in Day One alone.

Still feeling like ass, still having a hard time forming coherent sentences, still weak and sore and meh.

And it’s so damn beautiful out, I just want to go out and play but I get tired just putting my shoes on. Somebody go out there and have a great time in the sunshine and perfect fall weather for me. Then report back to me on your wild shenanigans, in short, easy-to-understand sentences, in a soft, murmuring tone of voice.

Then arrange for me to have a full-body massage while in a hot tub. Asleep.

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