I just happened to catch what I'd been trying to run from. Like some heroine in a really bad horror film running in a chiffon dress from some hideous beast from the deep...I was cornered. This nasty cold is definitely a horror. But I am no Fay Wray.
I ditch chiffon in favor of some rather mundane work clothes. And the running...that was more like weeks of obsessive compulsive Purell squirting and the occasional ducking into the staff restroom for surgeon worthy handwashing (fingertip to elbow). However in the most crucial times, the last two weeks I've gotten so busy and consequently, forgetful. I kept delaying the purchase of that tube of Airborne at the drug store. I'd been meaning to do that. I forgot to take those extra vitamins. And my biggest slip--I should have thrown the slipcovers of our couch in the wash. The same slipcovers that my roommate's friend spent most of the weekend on--coughing. The signs, the warning flags were all up, but I was just so busy I forgot to be compulsive this time. This is the best proof that I can present that I am not OCD. Seriously folks, who has ever heard of a forgetful obssessive compulsive person?
If the origin of one's illness is the throat, a raspy voice often results. Women especially, do not despair. Have you always harbored a secret wish to be a phone sex operator? Okay, maybe not...but I'm just saying. Although, truly I am kicking myself for not summoning up my inner Eartha Kitt and heading to some karaoke night to sing My Funny Valentine. I mean really, sick on Valentine's Day. Sometimes we don't answer opportunity when it knocks.
Also, yes, the cosmetic aspects of bugs or colds are rather frustrating. Red swollen nose, the chapped muzzle from constant nose blowing and gasping for air...they can be unsexy. However again, I embrace this. Why not be the trend-setter in this case? . I found this contraption, available on the internet (of course) to be not quite haute couture but definitely statement making. It's the perfect blend of fashion forward and function. Get a load of this headgear...enough to make Joan Cusak's character in Sixteen Candles jealous.
Last but not least: how many times do we say to ourselves...I just don't have enough time to spend sitting in front of this glorious television. Please read sarcasm here in case you missed it. Nevertheless, I have wondered what all the folks of Salem have been up to on Days of Our Lives. Such a shame to be left out of that loop while busy living my own life, right? Well, in all seriousness, if you've had to be sick for as long as I have been, you start to feel like these characters are old friends. I mean maybe it was about time to reconnect...after all, that sand has been slipping through that hourglass without me paying any attention for a good year. So in between sneezes I flipped on the t.v. To my horror just about every major character of Salem was aboard a plane that was about to crash. Great, now I tune in...is this the end for our heroes? A whole town wiped out in one episode? Well, frankly as they freeze framed the horror and angst laden faces I realized that it's the same ol' Friday cliffhanger. Whoa, I have deja vu (or deja view). You have to remember that with the writer's strike, some long standing lack of creativity and the popularity of ABC's Lost I know the ending...
Monday their plane will land violently and dramatically but insidiously slowly (it will take two commercial breaks just to get to the impact) on some desert island. They'll all survive the crash except for the one actor or actress whose contract has expired...he or she will be killed off. After all, with HDTV they can't be showing wrinkles that close up. The characters will do their choreographed mourning, shed some pretty tears and slow-mo embracing, cue the Celene Dion song- this all provides filler for the Soap Opera Digest award montage. This will be played out for about two months or so. They'll struggle for their lives, craft some sarong like clothing and contemplate their options for survival. Somehow despite their apparent peril, every actress will have perfectly coifed hair and perfectly applied makeup. My guess is that they dig harder in the planes rubble for the Elizabeth Arden beauty bags then the radio or cell phone to get them out of there. All survival concerns aside: the couple du jour will find some conveniently comfortable cave, grab the candles that they happened to pocket before the 10,000 foot nose dive and in their emotionally overwrought states get really romantic.
Ending on that note what more can I say but assnuuufff, hack, acchhhhuuuu! These are the Days of my life.
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