It’s That Time Again

Bah. It’s COLD AND FLU season. Time for little petri dishes to share as many germs as toys they play with. Time for work colleagues to come into work and cough endlessly all over everyone rather than miss a day of work. Time for people to sneeze all over the shopping cart they’re using, thereby passing it on to everyone else.

I hate cold and flu season.

Because, invariably, I get sick. Like I am doing. Right now.

YES I AM SPECIAL IT IS ALL ABOUT ME THIS IS A BIG DEAL SHUT UP.

I hate getting sick. I am not a good sick person. I take getting sick VERY PERSONALLY, like somebody did it TO ME. ON PURPOSE.

I grumble and I moan and I glare peevishly with watery eyes out at the world from behind endless mugs of warm beverages.

I frump around in the warmest of sweatshirts and then complain how hot I am.

AND THIS IS JUST A COLD. You don’t want to be around for a flu.

How do you know the difference, anyway? Is there a difference? I had a flu once, and it was one of those flus that can kill people. (NO REALLY. Sydney A flu. Look it up — it was one of those mega flus where the Powers That Be say OMG GO GET A FLU SHOT NOW WE’RE SUPERSERIOUS.) I was sick for two weeks and felt like I had been taken out and beaten with PVC pipe. But they can’t all be like that. Can they?

Anyway.

I am thinking this is just a cold. It’s in the back of my throat and my head and my chest. It started a little this morning, on Stinkerbelle’s class field trip, niggling in the back of my throat. And now?

PEEVISH GLARE.

BDH is sick too. We’ve been feeling run down, so it stands to reason. Stinkerbelle seems fine, but you know how long THAT will last.

So I’ve got to see how it goes. This is the busiest week we have had in a very long time, with school and field trips and classes and volunteering and adoption lunches. We’ve got a lot on the go, but how much we get to will depend on how well medicated I can be.

I’d rather curl up on the couch and watch gentle things on TV and drink hot bevvies and knit chair socks. But that’s not going to happen.

Oh well. Better me than That Girl.