I need to whine about my cold
Last week, I was AWOL from the cyber column business. Why? I had an unrelenting cold. (I now need the world’s smallest violin to divulge further into the column)
Coughing, hacking, wheezing, sniffles, chicken soup, tea, cough drops, lost my voice for a day (salvation for some), and plenty of runny snot dripping down my face while I slept. I woke up to streams of dried up mucus on my face and it looked like some kind of bizarre tribal war-paint.
Nelson Mandela struggled against Apartheid and I struggled against my cold and allergy oppressor. I was singing “We Shall Overcome” as I laid in bed trying not to be annoyed by my cold. My cold was absolutely a matter of small inconvenience, only compounded by my own inner bitching and moaning.
One of the worst feelings in a slightly (or not slightly) narcissistic mind is to be taken down a peg or two by something as common as the common cold. Yet, there I was, shuffling my feet, hanging my head low, and resigned to defeat as my own immune system and biology couldn’t derail my stupid cold.
My girlfriend gave me sympathy and selfies. My parents occasionally checked in on me. My mother in particular made a killer vegetable soup, which is one of the reasons I wish not to part this Earth. It’s a really good soup. Felt good on the ole throat — my golden and nerdy pipes.
I really thank them for being there for whiner-moi.
A cold is a little obstacle, and I devolved into wallowing self-pity. It was delicious. The soup, not the self-pity.
Getting sleep, which was the hard part during my cold, was hell. A few nights I only slept a few hours. On the days where I was about to sleep around six hours, moderate gains towards sanity were made. Movies, drinks, sleeping during the day, Howard Stern Radio Show, speed metal, and naughty photos — I hereby deliver the true panacea to the common cold and kick that sumbitch in the nuts.
I want to thank those who reached out to me while I was sick as a dog. But I also need to pay tribute to the one who matters most to me, the one I truly love: me. I want to congratulate me for embodying the human spirit of perseverance. I never let up. I never let myself down. I had the heart of a champion like Kobe Bryant or Tom Brady.
I am a warrior. I never threw in the towel. I was absolutely clutch. I threw the game-winning touchdown. I scored a hole-in-one. I single-handedly defeated the Nazis in Normandy. I was American exceptionalism.
I created the goddamn wheel.