I called in sick today. I have this nagging cough that started yesterday at the office. It kept me up last night. Two years ago, I would have gone to work anyway, but times have changed. If there is something to worry about, I can’t be exposing my co-workers to anything.
There aren’t any other symptoms, just the damned cough. When I woke up it was still with me. I pulled out my old crab-boil pot and loaded it with vinegar and water. I finally got the humidity up so high the glass door to the outside world fogged up. When I decided it was about to rain inside the house, I toned things down.
What this did was get everything flowing. Gross, I understand, and while the cough is still present it’s minimal compared to yesterday. My sincere hope is to have it gone completely by Monday.
I used my time to write, with frequent breaks for salt-water gargles and nose blowing. Don’t know if the salt-water helps or not, but it can’t hurt.
I really didn’t hit it very hard. Ray Dongas is finally on the page, but I only managed to give him a paragraph before I stopped for the morning.
Ray is my alien warehouse foreman. I’ve been dwelling on him for a long time, then John Howell posted about Bee Cave Bob this morning. Thanks for the assist, John.
Ray Dongas has an armadillo basis to his build. Of course, as an alien, I couldn’t leave him there. He also has a cockroach basis, and four arms to go along with his legs. I think he’s going to be fun.
I wish I’d brought work home with me, but it is what it is. I don’t feel terrible, I just need this cough to go away. I have every hope it will before my next shift. This feels like every other winter thing when I’ve lived inside under the furnace for too many months. In this modern era, I didn’t want to take a chance.