At work Friday night, I started to feel not so great – tickle in the throat, stuffy nose, etc.
I chalked it up to either standing all day in a stage that was air conditioned to ‘arctic tundra’ or the seasonal temperature changes around here (100 degrees one day, 65 the next. Ah, fall in Southern California).
Nope. Turns out, I was actually sick. Over the weekend.
If that’s not illegal, it should be. The winds blew all the atmospheric crap out of the sky and as the city sparkled in the clear air, I lay on the couch wheezing and failing to muster up the energy to wash my hair or find the remote so I wouldn’t have to watch golf.
That, and the corner store was sold out of the nice super-soft tissues that are coated with some sort of (probably) unholy goo but don’t rub your skin raw, so I had to get the not-so-nice tissues that felt like they were coated with bits of sawdust. Or broken glass. After a few hours, the skin around my nose was a thing of the past.
I must have been the very picture of loveliness itself. No wonder even the cat wouldn’t come near me.
I took some comfort in knowing that a large portion of Los Angeles was also sick over the weekend, and starting Sunday afternoon, an even larger portion of Los Angeles was coated in ash from the numerous fires burning.
Misery loves company, after all.
Today I ventured out mainly in search of groceries, but I also went to the gym and sat in the sauna for an hour or so in an attempt to ‘sweat it out’. I’m not sure if it was a successful attempt, because although I feel much better now, I sound terrible. Think about that stage right before the laryngitis really kicks in.
Everyone who’s talked to me on the phone this afternoon has been alarmed and of course have not believed my assertions about feeling pretty good.
Everyone who’s seen me in person today has actually winced and have also not believed my statements about feeling fine.
But it’s true. I still can’t breathe out of my nose, I sound like death itself and I’m coughing up bucketloads of something that should be featured prominently in a horror movie, but I feel good.
Or maybe I just felt so terrible over the weekend that I only feel comparatively good and I just can’t tell the difference.
Nope. I feel fine. Objectively fine.
Which is good, since I have to work tomorrow.