Anatomy of a Cold

We all get them. Some of us (me Me ME) way less often than the others. And some of us (me Me ME) have little or noooo sympathy whatsoever for the stupid mortals who allow themselves to fall victim to the rhinovirus.

Until now.

I’ve got the pox. I’VE GOT THE POX.

And I feel like crapdoodles.

The idea of this cold (and they DO start as ideas) gained cognition in mid-December…the busiest week of my life. 12 auditions, 5 hours of rehearsal, 16 hours of travel and 4 concerts later (and let’s not forget the pesky little UTI) I decided that a cold would not be convenient. So I didn’t get it. Nailed it with Zicam (yes, I have some rogue vials), zinc and vitamin D.

Then it waved a jaunty hello on New Year’s Eve. And I killed it with joy and alcohol.

I laid low most of the weekend following… I was busy with a reading and two important classes, an audition and cb for a director I find daunting, some commercial crap and was working on some writing projects and submissions. Again, it wasn’t convenient but I could no longer just kill it. It continued to peep out… the viral ”Where’s Waldo.”

Heeeeeere’s Waldo.

Hit me smack dab on the nose for the presentation of the reading. NOT convenient. But since I was Babushka Dvah and singing in the basement…do-able.

Now here I lie…two days later. Definitely NOT do-able.

I’ve employed a hanky as opposed to tissues. I thought I’d do my darnedest to keep the rainforest intact. I can’t really do anything of import because my synapses are so clogged with snot they’re not snapping cleanly. I randomly post on Facebook friend’s pages, “I have a cold.” One of them hadn’t heard from me in forever. Rude. My skin has the texture and color of my 1st edition autographed copy of “La Boheme.” There are boogers in my hair. I eat an orange (yum) and my ears itch (boo). What’s that about?

I smell.

And I’ve lost four pounds.

Ye olde colde is definitely on its way out but I am not—I don’t want it to land on any poor unsuspecting friends. Lovely friends who offer to bring over anything I need. I love you, lovely friends, and therefore am NOT letting this alight on you.

So, it’s another day of random sitcom re-runs for TiZ and her AsS. I keep looking for messages in the random sitcom re-runs. I told you my synapses are snagging.

I have sympathy.