I have one of those colds that really should not be a big deal, but I am easily annoyed by colds. Most frustratingly it is wimpy enough that I feel like a total tool complaining about it. (Yet you will notice that fact has not stopped me from complaining about said cold on my blaaaawwwg.) My throat doesn't so much hurt as sort of itch and feel like someone has a fan blowing against the back of my throat keeping it nice and dry and tickle-y. The cough that came with the sore throat is equally unsatisfying and non-sympathy-gathering. The cough doesn't even have the self-respect to become on of those honking-death-rattle chest coughs that hurt but are sort of satisfying in a gross, phlegm-y way. No, it is a very lady-like soft cough that is totally unsatisfying and makes me sound like I'm faking it to get out of going to school on a day I have a biology test. No really, Mom, I'm sick! *cough-cough* See?
So far the only thing that helps the lady-cough and the itchy, dry throat is to eat and/or drink constantly. I am using this as an excuse for the 14 tootsie rolls that I ate for breakfast this morning. Don't judge me! It was either that or join the circus and take up sword-swallowing. I did chase the tootsie rolls with orange juice, if that helps any.
In related news, this morning I awoke to find that I am in that spacey part of a cold where it doesn't even require cold medicine to make me feel high and I find myself regularly fascinated by things like the pattern of grass clippings on the edge of the sidewalk and robots in the crosswalk and suddenly I notice that I have mysteriously stopped walking across the street and that is not smart during rush hour in downtown Chicago and clearly that is proof that this cold might well kill me and you all should feel very sorry for me and make pudding for me.
