Sniff, Sniff

I’m siiiiiick. I’ve got this really, really, really crappy cold. For the past 36 hours, I’ve been trying to convince myself that it was indoor allergies…but I’ve finally given in to the fact this “ain’t no freakin’ allergy, bay-bee”.

I do believe I’ve uncovered the true, yet-undiscovered cause of the common cold, however:

It is when one is inundated with horror stories from well-meaning friends who upon hearing the tale of my Mickey encounter, felt compelled to share a more horrific version of their own.

I shall keep the names anonymous, to protect the innocent and also because, quite frankly, I have not yet completed my master plan to return the favor. (And oh, yes….I will return the favor. Has no-one heard the expression “TMI”??? Sue F knows what I’m talkin’ about.) It’s like telling someone with a pain in their big toe that you once had a roommate whose cousin’s, neighbor’s best friend had the exact same thing…and now one leg’s five inches shorter than the other, his wife left him for a more even-keeled guy and he’s been bitten three times by dogs who mistook his uneven gait for lunging at their owners, causing him to require therapy twice weekly for canine-phobia, weekly trips to the clinic for rabies shots and a restraining order not allowing him to go within 50 feet of any china shop in the metropolitan area.

Now….where was I? Hang on…….(scolls back up in an attempt to relocate train of thought…which, let’s face it…had left the station hours ago…)

Ah. Horror stories! Yes…one about a rat found in someone’s basement where the guy hunted it down over a several day period with a pistol, playing the world’s grossest game of tag…only to wind up leaving both a JUMBO sized rat neck-breaking trap…baited with rolled up prosciutto with a little salami, I believe…as well as the traditional rat poison. Interestingly, the rat passed on the delicacy and took the poison, then decided to double back to revisit that good-lookin’ hunk of food, before keeling over and passing on to Rat Heaven, where pool lounge chairs are shaped like traps and cabana rat men bring teeny martinis with rolled up prosciutto with a little salami on the side.

My other friend almost ate an everything bagel with cream cheese that had mouse poop in it. Details are sketchy…it’s hard to concentrate when you’re retching and shivering violently.

Thank you SO MUCH for these....remarkable tales, my friends. I'm sure you meant well.

MY POINT is that listening and processing all these horror stores has weakened my immune system to the point where I can no longer fight off the cold and virus germs that live everywhere….according to the Lysol commercials…which by the way are very convincing, as I’ve sprayed every solid surface in my home at least twice to date.

My nose is alternating between running (yes, I’ve got the tissues rolled up in my sleeve…ya got a problem with dat?) and being so blocked up, the ringing phone sounds like it’s coming from the house next door.

I keep dropping things, and leaning down to retrieve them makes me feel like my head's gonna explode and requires plugging up my nose with no less than 2-3 tissues…or I’ll just have something else to clean up. A few minutes ago, I dropped the used coffee filter half-in and half-out of the trash can, spilling used coffee grinds all over the floor. This is evidently one of the rare things that Metro chooses not to eat…lucky me. It took forever to clean them up, ‘cause they were wet and I had to get every single one…’cause they looked eerily like mouse poop to me….not that I’ve seen mouse poop…but I hear it looks a lot like caraway seeds.

The only good thing I can ascertain from this experience is that I’ve got that deep, raspy Demi Moore kinda voice. Sexy…maybe I should re-record my answering machine…but only if I can keep myself from sounding like Elmer Fudd doing Demi Moore (and not in a good way) during the 30-second outgoing message. Oh, never mind.

I’ve taken every treatment plan known to man: nasal spray, Sudafed, vitamin C, herbs, vaporizer, orange juice and tons and tons of seltzer. I don’t believe in taking one thing at a time and seeing if it does the trick. I believe in a full-blown-attack…and who gives a sh!t what works...as long as I feel better. The only thing I can’t take is anything that’ll put me to sleep (tempting though it is) ‘cause da boys return from the Sunshine State around 3-ish and as we all know, moms are not allowed to be sick.

However, we can be really bitchy.