Ahh nothing like a sweet summer cold to make the world shine a little brighter. Two Thursdays ago I went for a drink after work with people. I figure the alcohol intake tipped the balance in a war I didn’t know about, and my immune system collapsed under friendly fire. So I spent three miserable days suffering, and then the disease devolved into a standard head cold just in time for me to get back to work.
My special lady friend also succumbed to illness. Twice this week she has erupted in 5–10 minute coughing fits in the middle of the night. Oddly enough, I was the only one to awaken under the onslaught. I was subsequently chastised for waking her up to stop the coughing. These are the kinds of arguments about which I cannot fathom her rational, and so I must not say anything. I am not good at saying anything. Has anybody noticed that being sick sucks for relationships?