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janey

i hab a code id by node

There comes a point in the lifespan of an extended cold where people lose all sympathy for you.

That point is pretty much immediately after you say "I think I have a cold."

Colds won't kill you. They'll just bore you to death. You, and everyone you come in contact with. Contagion isn't about who gets the next box of kleenex. No, you're not spreading germs; you're spreading boredom.

When you have a neverending cold, you're on a constant quest for someone who will feel sorry for you. And because your head is full of stuffing and DayQuil and a faint buzzing sound, you just don't get that no one cares. Your persistent misery forces you on, describing your symptoms to anyone who'll listen, oblivious to their shifty posture and glazed eyes and dismissive "mmmhmmm"s and "that's too bad"s. Talking about the cold makes it new to you; putting words to the feeling of "unnnngh" is as refreshing for the sufferer as a lotion tissue on a red nose. Not so for the audience, unwilling participants in your low-grade misery, but since a cold dulls all social cues, you complain freely and wait for the sympathy to roll in.

You guys, have I mentioned that I have a cold?

Wait. Where are you going?

Comments

Wouldn't it be even weirder if people were interested in your cold?
"I am exceptionally interested in your cold. Please, tell me more. . . is your nose runny? Hmmm, interesting. Tell me more about the congestion."