According to some talking head on the news, the frequency of illness during the winter is no longer attributed to the cold weather outside; rather, people get sick because everyone is huddled inside where the air is dry from heaters. Once one person gets sick, everyone else gets sick. I have found this to be true in the last 48 hours.
Over the past week, several people in our newsroom were sick, so I was not surprised to find last night as I groggily assembled this morning's paper that I may have caught the bug. Sure enough, as the night stretched on the tightness in my throat became more of a throb. When at last the time came for my weekend to begin, I staggered out to my car feeling utterly defeated. The disease had caught me.
I awoke this morning to the distinct feeling one gets after swallowing a porcupine. And so I have spent the day chugging green tea and chicken noodle soup while laying on Cliff's couch trying desperately not to infect anything. Although my present state of discomfort reeks, I am quite thankful for several things:
--Cliff... and his couch
--My last two bags of Zen tea
--The chicken noodle soup recipe I invented two weeks ago
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