I don’t think that I’ve been sick for a while because I don’t remember it being this bad and I don’t remember feeling this bitchy about it.

Cold and flu season should happen during a time when you need blankets and slippers and flannel. But it’s June. It’s not technically summer yet but it’s summer for all intents and purposes. It’s too hot to be sick.

I got a flu shot last October and made it through the whole season. It was glorious. I don’t think I even got a mild cold all winter. But now here I am in June feeling like ass. I feel like an ass sandwich with an extra side of ass.

I’m re-discovering my state-dependent memory with regards to being sick. Every time I get sick, I think to myself, “I should really make sure to stock up on the proper medicine for next time because I don’t want to have to go out and get it again next time.” Then I feel better and I completely forget about that preparation. (Luckily, this time, my NyQuil and DayQuil gelcaps don’t expire until 2019. So, I’m good.)

I forget that I need to thank God for every day and night that I can breath clearly through my nose. I forget how amazing honey lemon Halls are. I forget how weird it is to not really be able to do anything. When you feel busy all the time, all you want to do is sit still and do nothing. But when you have to do that, it’s not that great. I want my lazy days spent napping to occur by choice, not out of necessity as part of some recovery.

I’m ambivalent about the fact that I’m sick on the weekend. I like missing work as much as the next guy but I’ve never been able to kick some low level guilt for missing work for being sick.

Also, I’m lonely. That part’s new. I haven’t really talked to anyone today. I’ve texted but not face to face conversations with any friends. And I probably won’t have any tomorrow.

I think I’ve slept for six hours today since getting up. And I’m about to go to sleep again.

But, seriously, if your nasal passages are clear, be grateful. Say a prayer if that’s your thing.