11/08/05 The Death Of Marcus

I have a cold. A big nasty evil stinking cold… I hate colds. I really really really fucking hate them. The word hatred is actually too lightweight of a term for it. (The English language really needs to come up with a new word for that kind of hatred.) It’s truly one of the most unpleasant experiences I can think of. Other than the ability to catch up on what I’ve missed on TV lately, there’s absolutely nothing good that can come from this demon sickness.

Much to my chagrin, I fully and completely transform into a little boy when I’m sick. How Erin puts up with me when I fell like I’m on deaths door, I’ll never understand. I get more whiney and grumpy with sniff and wheeze. Let’s face colds just plain suck. I wish I could eradicate the common cold from the face of the earth. Die you evil microbial bastards die…

I‘ve likely had this satanic beast of a cold of mine for several days now, but the symptoms didn’t decide to arrive at the party until yesterday. At least I wasn’t hacking my guts up on stage. That would have sucked. I would have felt bad for the people in the front row. That’s just what everybody needs… Dinner and a flu… with some dick jokes thrown in for good measure and for only a mere 15 bucks a head. It’s a paltry sum for a gift that keeps on giving for at least a week.

I rose out of bed at 6 am feeling like a giant sack of crap. The wheezing started right away too. The second the alarm clock went off so did my lungs. I got up and immediately started to cough and for a second I thought it wasn’t going to stop. I went and had some breakfast, the free continental kind that comes from hotels looking to attract frugal businessmen. Mike and I talked about politics, but our conversation was punctuated by me coughing loudly and clutching my chest. Each cough felt like someone stabbing me. I now understand what the victim in a slasher flick feels like.

The symptoms got worse in the car. I sucked on cough drop after cough drop, hoping it would help prevent the stabbing pain. It sort of worked, but I still had the odd coughing fit. I felt really bad for Mike having to travel with a human germ factory, but he was really good about it. I hope he didn’t get this nasty sickness, I know I’d feel real shitty about it if he did.

When I got home, I immediately went to the drugstore to get some supplies. By the time I was done, I had racked up nearly 80 bucks worth of medicine. It costs a lot to be sick these days. The quarterback I chose in the offensive against my cold is Nyquil. It’s the equivalent of the atomic bomb to the common cold. (Some people say its Buckley’s that really does the trick… But those people are evil…) I took a hit of it with an apple juice chaser, and passed out rather quickly. I had some really weird dreams. Too weird to describe in any sensible fashion…

Today I feel even worse than I did yesterday. Even though I slept from 11pm last night till 3pm today. I’m still really groggy, and really very tired. I feel weak like a little kitten. I tried talking to my parents on the phone, but I couldn’t keep a train of thought going for more than about 30 seconds. They should add temporary ADD as a side effect on the Nyquil bottle.

But I’d have to say the worst part for me is that feeling like you are standing outside of yourself. Although the achy dizziness in not that pleasant either.

Anyway… I’m off to continue the battle. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll feel like a smaller bag of crap…

End of Transmission