Sick

I'm sick.  I have a cold.  The kind of cold that makes you wish that you could fall asleep and wake up in a few days feeling like new again.  It's a head cold that will eventually travel down to my chest, making me cough as if I am dieing from tuberculosis, consumption or some other rare disease.

I feel as if my head is in a vise.  I can't breathe through my nose, which makes my lips dry up and burn as if they had been exposed to the sun too long.  Cotton where brains should be and a buzzing in my ears making it very difficult to follow any conversation at all, least of all those with any merit or normal interest in times of well being.  "What do you think about ____?"  I don't.  And I don't care that I don't.

I want to go to sleep, but that too eludes me.  I toss and turn.  Sleeping, at most, what seems like only minutes at a time.  My head pounds and my ears buzz.  No rest for the weary here.  I need to blow my nose once again.  Will it ever stop running and let me be?  I sneeze frequently and observe what I perceive to be voluminous droplets of fluid escape from my nose and mouth.

I hate being sick and yet it happens every year at this time.