Sniff, blech, snot

I have a ritual of speaking to my parents every Sunday. First I get Mom, then I talk to Dad. It took me years to train them not to get on the phone at the same time.

Dad always manages to ask how everyone is feeling. I honestly answered that everyone was great. By noon, I was feverish and trying to cough up my liver.

Fingers crossed, my flex day was Monday. Maybe this would pass and I wouldn’t have to miss any work. Stupid human, microbes care not for your hopes and dreams.

I spent most of the day in bed Monday. Then I “went” to bed about 6:00. I never got up until 7:00 the next day.

I coughed most of the night, and had to get up hourly for various reasons, mostly involving spitting. A few involving shivering fever-like symptoms.

Last night wasn’t much better.

I went to the doctor today, but didn’t have a lot of hope. I know the drill with a virus. They gave me some nasal spray that ought to help. The pharmacist changed it out for a generic version of Flonase.

My MO is to check for the dosage. I flipped the box over, and learned not to take it if I’m addicted to certain substances, pregnant, have a bad attitude, or might ever have a cataract. When I reached the bottom, it invited me to open the box and read the paper inside to find the directions.

By this point, I was getting a little pissed off, but after passing muster with their lawyers, I figured I was home safe.

Turns out this paper has all of their corporate history, names of their future entitled children, and other information I really don’t need to know. Then it invited me to flip it over and look at the cartoons.

In other words, I’m sufficiently trained to read all of their disclaimers and corporate bullshit, but need a cartoon to explain how to blast this shit up my nose.

Turns out some kind of assembly is required. This thing was shrink wrapped so tightly, I couldn’t get it open. It did not come with the standard perforations that I’m familiar with to help remove the shrink wrap. I tried scissors, but this crap was so tight I couldn’t slip a blade under the wrap. Finally, I resorted to a knife.

Seems odd to me they didn’t have a disclaimer about using a knife and driving it through your hand while attempting to open it. Seems like they’re setting themselves up for a lawsuit. Heaven help them if I’d have punctured the bottle and sprayed this crap in my eyes. Probably causes cataracts.

I also got some kind of Pseudoephedrine pills that Old What’s Her Face had to sign her life away for. Honestly, I have more faith in these. Time will tell.

I still nodded off multiple times today. Work tomorrow is still questionable. I may have to get up, then decide.

It took several tries to write this blog post out. It may not even be good, but at least give me a handicap.

I haven’t written a single word of fiction this week either. That’s a double impact for me. My brain hasn’t been in the right place.

Does researching biological weapons for a story mean you’re going to come down with one of them? I can’t imagine Ebola feels any worse.

Honestly, if I surfed past your blog and hit the like button, feel honored. That’s about all I could manage.