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After a night of wonderful drug-induced, cough-free sleep, I felt ever so much better this morning. A little sluggish and lethargic, but better. That Nyquil stuff is nature’s perfect remedy. There’s nothing that can be wrong with you that it won’t cure. I even rub it on insect bites and wash out ear wax with it.
It’s possible I hallucinated this, but I think the Boss gave me a raise today. No, it really happened, because I already did the math to see how much of my augmented salary I’d get to keep, and it’s almost worth it. It won’t pay off all the credit card debt I had to incur just to keep from going under, but it might keep me from borrowing again. And that’s worth something.
When I was at the pharmacy buying cough syrup and a big bag of Hall’s drops this morning, the clerk gave me a big, cheery “How are you?” I forced myself to lie to her. “Doin’ all right,” I said, when what I wanted to say was, “I hope you never get what I’ve had for the last two days. And how are you?” It’s hard not to be a little snarky when you’re hacking through a jungle of snot.
The recovery isn’t complete. The later it got, the easier it was to remember how far I have to go yet. I’m still not ready for company, and it’s not time for me to hold the baby yet. If there’s a reason I’m taking better care of myself than usual this time, that’s it. When my turn comes, I don’t want to be contagious. Infectious, maybe, but not transmittable. I am, after all, still coughing. Just not as frequently or frantically. |
