A Stupid Cold

I came down with a cold this week. So while Cheryl, who gave me this cold and who has now recovered, is out shopping today with the rest of the country, I'm at home struggling to write this. (It's either this or go back to bed.) Meanwhile Willow just wants to go to the park. She's got no patience with a whiner and complainer like me.

Now seems a good opportunity to describe, to actually write down, what I feel like when I have a cold. People really can't remember pain or sickness very well--I would do some research on this now but I feel like crap, and I don't really care if it's true.

At this moment I feel like a carpenter's vise is attached to my head just behind my eye sockets. The tension would be just right to join two pieces of clear pine but not quite enough for oak. It seems that in my sleep someone stuffed a sock up my nose and into my sinus cavity, a rough wool sock that scratches against my eyeballs when I blink. My ears are ringing. My fingers, hands and arms feel heavy with weights. And I am profoundly stupid, more so than usual, a sleepy, slow stupid.

We did have a nice Thanksgiving yesterday, so I'm not complaining.