Because of the above, I have been, uh, the below:
Simple enough, who doesn’t catch a cold during the monsoons – a much glorified, overly simplified season in the arts and literature? Nothing to write home about. By a Carpenters logic, at the start of the week I was,
Rainy Day + Monday = Doubly Down
And that should be okay too, except
I Can’t Talk.
Yes, you heard me.
Me, whose long-winded essay writing style you’ve grown to get used to and love. Me, whose long-winded essay writing style you’ve grown to get used to and love, that is only a concise and highly edited version of how much she speaks. Me, whose long-winded essay writing style you’ve grown to get used to and love, that is only a concise and highly edited version of how much she speaks, which she has been unable to do for nearly a week because she’s been under the weather.
Me, who has found it difficult to write longhand or type, because she has to constantly sterilize her writing tools after violently sneezing over them.
Me, who has found it difficult to think on sleepless nights, resting her head on a mountain of pillows to be able to breathe among all the snot.
My job requires me to talk a lot. Loudly. With people. This week, I’ve been reduced to croaks, bleats, whispers and unaccountable moments of recovering some of my plummy broadcaster voice, to be followed by violent fits of coughing. I’m waiting for it to get all sexy and raspy when all this subsides, but what it is now, is something totally new. If you know of any voice over work playing aliens, let me know.
I’ve been taking care of this as much as possible, but you know what they say. With medicines – seven days, without medicines – a week. The thing is, I keep getting wet in the rain, and this cold and fever just keeps coming back. It isn’t anything major, and please, I’m not going back to the doctor again. I haven’t been to the doctor’s for over six months, and that’s a record for me, given my tally last year. I’d rather keep supporting the Vicks establishment instead.
No words of wisdom today except, perhaps, use those old-fashioned bits of cloth known as handkerchiefs which is a “Kleenex you don’t throw away”, to quote Meg Ryan from You’ve Got Mail, in case you are similarly down. It’s more eco-friendly than tissues, and you can always support another establishment like Surf or Ariel to clean your kerchiefs. And fashion scarves out of them when you are well.
With any luck, next week, I’ll be like this
How do you deal with being under the weather?