I Have a Cold

Today, I have a cold, a summer cold. Summer colds, as we all know, are the worst. Mucus is flowing from my nose in a steady drip reminiscent of Chinese water torture. I sneeze in triplicate, each explosive exhalation (Triple alliteration! 300 points!) the blast of a bull elephant. Even sick I am alpha. The dull ache on the left side of my skull booms like tympani in three-quarter time and my eyes are an irritated scarlet.

I do not feel good.

And yet I am at work, confident in my ability to overcome sickness, determined to be productive in spite of this malady. Or maybe I am out of sick days and cannot afford to stay in the relative comfort of my home.

On most days I am supportive of environmental activists and their staunch defense of oxygen-giving trees, but not today. The pile of tissue beside my desk grows exponentially each hour, a veritable mountain of soggy bits of fluff. To stop the flow from my nose I would cut down an entire forest of trees that make the softest tissue known to man, in hopes bringing even the slightest relief to my reddened nostrils.

Agony, oh agony! Whence comes relief?


M. PotPie