Monday, February 11, 2008


(NOTE: This entry was written last week when I felt like death warmed over on toast.)

I have come to the conclusion that, sometimes, life just sucks. I know, I’m not the first to reach this conclusion. I’m not even the millionth-and-first to reach it. But, there are days like today (okay, weeks like this past week) where it becomes such an overwhelming feeling that it SEEMS like I’m the first to reach this conclusion.

Okay, I was going somewhere profound with this train of thought. I just know it. Then I spent the last 5 minutes staring off into space and wondering what the hell I was just talking about. Ahh…the wonders of cold medicine. I learned this week that it’s possible to feel both wired AND sleepy at the same time. I didn’t think that was possible, but apparently, if you find JUST the right mix of cold meds and Diet Coke, you can pull it off.

(Note to self: Finance shoe habit with new street drug cocktail of Zicam Extreme Congestion + Diet Coke)

Yep. That’s right. I’ve been sick with the So Cal Bug of the Year for the past week. This explains the level of suckage of life to which I alluded to way back in the first paragraph.

Before I forgot where I was and what I was doing.

Which leads me back to the whole cold medicine thing. It’s amazing to me that we can put a man on the moon and even swap out people’s organs with replacements, but we can’t conquer the tiny, but oh-so-mighty virus.

We’ve tried. I mean, we’ve really tried. Go to the drug store…there are shelves and shelves and shelves of remedies. None of which, I’ve come to the reluctant conclusion, work worth a damn.

It’s not like a headache where you take a couple of Tylenol at the first signs and in 20 minutes, you’re fine. Once you start feeling that ominous little tickle in the back of your throat, forget it. You are toast. Burned toast, at that.

And yes, I’ve tried the Cold-Eze and the Zicam and all the other things that “supposedly” shorten the duration and lighten the symptoms. The jury is still out on those things as far as I’m concerned. My experience has been that sometimes, the cold does seem to be shorter and lighter. Other times, I get sick as a dog anyway…except that in addition to the lovely regular cold symptoms, I now have an upset stomach, no sense of taste and my tongue is all messed up from cramming all that zinc down during what I like to call the “CrapIcannotbelieveI’mgettingsickbecauseIdon’thavetimetobesickIamnotgetting
sickNotNOTSOOOOcannotaffordtobesick$*#(&!^&!!Iamsick!” phase.

You know, that phase where you have that ridiculously futile conversation inside your head that goes a little something like this:

ME: “Okay, I just swallowed and it hurt a little. What does that mean?”

MY THROAT: “It means you’re getting sick, dumbass.”

ME: “Naaah. I feel totally fine. Look, I’ll swallow again and it’ll be fine.


ME: “Hmmm…it’s still there.”

MY THROAT: “Toldja.”

ME: “I probably just need a drink. My throat’s dry from talking/the weather/allergies/hopeful excuse du jour as to why this is NOT me getting sick.”

Insert large quantities of Diet Coke here.

ME: “Ow. Owowowowow.”

MY THROAT: “Snicker. I told you. You should listen to me.”

ME: “But I can’t be getting sick. I haven’t been around anyone sick lately and anyway, I wash my hands like a maniac and I have too much to do to get sick. I can’t be sick. This is not happening. Lalalalalalalala. If I ignore it, and get a good night’s sleep tonight, it will go away.”

MY THROAT: “Ummm…nope. Not going away. In fact, getting worse.”

ME: “Crap. I cannot get sick right now. I know, it’s allergies. It must be allergies. I’ll pop a Cold-Eze just in case, but it’s probably allergies and I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

MY THROAT: “You are in denial.”

ME: “Denial about what? See, I feel better already. Except…why am I shivering…and sweating. Okay, how can I be shivering and sweating at the same time? A fever? A FEVER? Crap! I am SICK!”

MY WHOLE BODY: “Sucks to be you. Oh, and Stomach says quit taking that zinc stuff or he’s going to throw up.”

At this point, the last word is usually had by my brain whose last coherent thought for the next week is that a double shot of Nyquil and a week of unconsciousness would be a really, REALLY good idea right now.

I suppose the one upside is that I can turn the whole miserable experience into a long and exceedingly whiny blog entry thus fulfilling this year’s “write more blog entries” resolution.


Music: "Pump It" - Black Eyed Peas

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