Meh. For the last two weeks I’ve been woman-down. For the last weekend, I’ve been dead. Drowning in gloop and goo. Coughing like an Alsatian on a choke chain. Covered in soggy tissues and Vick Vapour Rub (don’t even think about it Vapour man). All in all? Not pretty.
Now that I’m faintly recovering, I would like to know who invented lergies? WHO? Because I’d like to give them a stern talking to. I’d like to breathe my wheezy, bubbling breath all over them, and question what they possibly could have been thinking.
Feeling like someone filled your lungs with cement and you nasal cavities with mashed slug is not fun. No. Not at all, thank you very much. Flying on an aeroplane with congested sinuses is painful. Trying to contain the dripping mucus that flows from your nose at inopportune moments is embarrassing. Sweating like a paedophile at a school sports day is unbecoming of a lady. Rasping and growling like Janis Joplin after a bender makes me sound like a tranny.
This is not cool. I’m sick of being sick. I’d like it to stop now.