Screw it, I'm writing about my cold

I haven’t had a cold in a long time, so this week has been a wonderful reminder of how unnecessary colds are. They’re awful. I would like to know who thought these up. I have some words for them. 

When my sinuses are all plugged up, I seem to become phenomenally stupid. (For instance: I forget how to spell “phenomenally.” That’s a lot of syllables! I even tried to sound it out, in my sad little stuffed-head croak. Phedobedally.


Normally I’m all for over-the-counter meds but I can’t take anything with a decongestant because they make me insane. Twitchy, dizzy, yelly. You do not want to see me on Sudafed. And my neti pot can’t make headway (get it? get it) on this sinus situation. I’m too far gone. So here I sit, listening to the ocean roar inside my head, wondering what day it is. (It’s hard to remember when it’s so loud in here.) 

Monday I had to call a plumber and as their phone rang, I tried to remember how I was supposed to greet them. “Hello, I require an appointment with one of your associates of the plumbing variety”? “Morning! There seems to be a bit of a toilet situation”? “Snake my drain”? I mean, sure, now I can come up with all of these perfectly valid options, but when the pressure was on I panicked. My head was filled with fluids.  I was drowning. So when they answered the phone, here’s what came out of my mouth: “I NEED PLUMBER.” Just like that. No, I did not include “a.” 

The rest of the call went well. Turns out you really don't have to get much fancier than "I NEED PLUMBER." 

Tuesday I had a meeting where I was meeting ["I had a meeting where I was meeting"? Nice grammar, Bradley] a bunch of people, so I had to announce to everyone I was sick because otherwise I would have shaken all their hands and then they would all figure out from the sniffling and sneezing that I’d just infected them all. But I didn’t want to be a jerk about it, you know, like: before you thrust your hand out at me, I'd like you to know I’m about to save your life. You’re welcome. 

After avoiding everyone’s hands and apologizing for myself (more than usual) I knocked into my mug of tea and the tea went everywhere and I announced to the room “I DID THAT.” One of my associates thought this was the funniest thing ever. As a result I immediately loved her and wanted to sit on her lap. “I like how you owned that,” she said. “I believe in taking full responsibility for my mistakes,” I replied. “May I sit on your lap, now?” “I don’t see how that’s necessary,” she replied. I explained that I would find it soothing, and she said something about being inappropriate. I don’t know, I was too busy trying to clamber onto her lap. 

Okay that part was a lie, but this is true: On my way home I needed cough drops, so I went to the drugstore near me where the woman behind the counter calls everyone “sweetie” and “baby.”

Now. Did I need cough drops? Kinda. Did I really just want the nice lady behind the counter to call me “baby”? Yes. Yes, I did. I really love her. 

She did call me baby, by the way. And also sweetie. While basking in the warmth of her affections I tried to swipe my card but it wasn’t working, and it took three tries before she took it and said, “Aw, baby, it’s your library card, sweetie.”