Sick of MyselfAlmost a year to the day, I got my annual cold. Can you believe it?
I don't think it's as bad as last year, but at that time I didn't have a job and just moped (not mo-ped) around the house.
But I'm a few days into this - six to be exact - so the end is near. (Three days coming, Three days with you, Three days going.)
It's gone from scratchy throat to congestion and now headed back to the chest. I can actually deal with all of that - save the coughing. I hate hate hate the coughing. I don't think my co-workers are exactly pleased with me either. ....and it is so annoying when I lie down to try to sleep.
I'm hoping not to hack my way through a presentation I have to give on Friday. A potentially huge client - and ironically the same one that brought us to Cleveland over 12 years ago.
Tonite, maybe it'll be a benadryl night. Or a vicodin and a beer one.
Song by: Matthew Sweet
2 comments:
Honey, think! Benadryl, vicodin, AND beer. We here in Western Mass call it "The Mitt."
I remember your cold last year... time sure does fly.
A Mitt sounds tasty right about now-- that lethal-sounding drug and alcohol combination, not the wooden man-like structure who is taking a beating.
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