Stupid Horking Non-Flu — Redux

(Republished because we are, once again, totally pathetic).

There is no way I have the flu.

I know this because I had a flu shot a month ago.

So it must be something else that is causing me to hork up bits of lung.

And be a real pleasure to be around.

So I sit here in front of my laptop, looking out the window, into yet more rain and darkness.

New Zealand is beautiful. But fall/winter here sucks.

Or horks, to be more accurate.

I am writing this blog post because I don’t know what else to do.

The thought of clearing my desk and filing the piles of paper is overwhelming.

So is the concept of doing actual work or chasing business.

Ugh. Ack. Hork. Whimper.

If I start playing with the doglettes, and they hear a sound, any sound, anywhere in the universe, and they started BARKING, right into my stuffed-up, aching head, I would be forced to fling them into the primordial jungle out back.

Which would lead to direct conflict with the GM Finance, and I am just not up to that.

I cannot sleep because of the coughing and horking and “antsy” reaction to Suda-Something meds.

Surfing the Internets is always a great time-killer, but since my clogged up head has a maximum of two working brain cells, I dare not fill them both with Interweb news, lest I lose the will to live.

So here I sit.

Typing and horking.

Eyes watering from the overwhelming unfairness of this burden.

Occasionally running a snotty tissue across the keyboard.

Because I am a guy, and guys are always conscious of hygiene.

Like, moments ago, when I took a pill after dropping it, reaching way back under the Chinese chest to get it, wiping the dust gunks off the pill with my shirt, and then washing it down with bathroom sink water.

See? Totally hygiene conscious.

If I had chicken soup and a hot toddy I would partake of them and cocoon in front of the television.

To be dumbed down and numbed down.

But I don’t have either.

So it’s diluted lung elixer in a coffee cup, colloidal silver, over-the-counter meds, heating pads, and life-giving chedder crackers.

Plus occasional inhalation treatments of oil of eucalyptus vapors.

And subsequent coughing attacks that lead to mass horkage and back spasms.

2014 UPDATE 1: I do not care about superbugs or “viral this and bacterial that”. I have now decided to call in the big gun antibiotics. So there.

2014 UPDATE 2: I was so light-headed yesterday while getting meds from the mall that I couldn’t follow the straight lines on the floor. Yes, of course I drove home. What kind of stupid woman question is that?

Did I mention I am also a real pleasure to be around?



(Note: I am aware that while I am being all man-pathetic about a widdle cough, a classmate’s husband is in M.D. Anderson for treatment. Prayers are with him and his family.)

(Note: As per the above note, it all turned out brilliantly).



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