Nov 13, 2015 3 min read

It was hard to express on the telephone, but I called my boss and said, “I hab a cold.”

With that, I called off work with a severely stuffed-up nose.

It’s that magical time in November, ladies and gentlemen, when cold and flu season is upon us. I am under the weather, and the weather isn’t all that good to begin with.

Yes, I’m breathing through my mouth this week. The neighbor kids are going to mistake me for Darth Vader.

By the way, is Darth the first asthmatic supervillain? He’s got an inhaler attached to his face! He couldn’t have been that threatening. He can barely breathe.

Of course, he could do that “choke you with two fingers from a distance thing.” It’s all about breathing issues with that guy.

By I digress, like I do. Several glasses of orange juice, hot tea and homemade soup later, and I’m still coughing my block off.

That hacking and wheezing you hear in the distance is probably me. I don’t have any volume control on this thing.

I’m a not a quiet sick person. I’m a noisy mess.

It started Monday. I called off Tuesday.

Then, I ruined a perfectly good holiday and stayed sick on Veterans Day. For most of Tuesday, I hid under a blanket watching episodes of old television shows.

As I’ve said in the past, television will rot your brain, but daytime television will rot it at warp speed. I can’t click past these judge shows fast enough. There are like 20 of them now.

The incessant yammering on “The View,” “The Chew” and “The Talk” will melt your face off. Last time I heard that many people talking at once was at a party, and without the chips, dip and alcohol, it’s downright annoying.

I recently read that the most germ-infested item in your house is the television remote.

It makes sense. The TV remote has been very comforting these last few days. I’ll have to dip it in a vat of bleach when this is all over.

This week I could be found by the television in pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt, carrying around a box of Kleenex. I had the box in one hand and a tissue to my nose with the other.

Trust me, it’s not an attractive look. Nothing says sexy like a tissue jammed up your nose.

I do have that throaty, sexy voice though, like Kathleen Turner.

I did enjoy the midday napping, but that seems to be the only upside of this adventure in Germ-Town. My bed and my toilet have been my only friends through this harrowing time. I’ll remember them fondly.

I’m not sure how I got sick. It came on very suddenly. I remember seeing a Christmas Countdown Clock on Facebook, and then I was off to the bathroom to hurl. I am sure the events are unrelated.

I have to go now. The tea kettle is calling my name.

Actually, it’s saying, EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!” But, you know, close enough.