True Love

I've been fighting the head cold from hell for about the last week. The kind where your head is so congested that it feels like your head has expanded to three times its normal size. The kind where you can only breathe through your left nostril. Wait, now it's your right nostril. Back to the left nostril again. But that doesn't really matter, because you are spending a significant amount of time plugging your nose, trying to pop your ears. The kind where your tongue becomes fuzzy because when you aren't chewing gum trying to pop those damn ears you're sucking on a lozenge trying to ease the scratchy throat.

On the grand scale of pain this kind of illness ranks somewhere above stubbing my toe and below monthly cramps. In other words, annoying, but nothing you can't deal with. You go on with your life as normal, but with frequent breaks for nose blowing and ear popping.

Yesterday I continued with apartment packing as well. The body didn't like that too much, so it took revenge on my by running a slight fever and breaking me down to the point where I was forced to take a nap on the floor. The cold just wasn't getting enough attention, so after awaking I decided to head back to the Sweetie's place and take is easy for the night. I stopped for rations along the way which, in addition to something for dinner, included bubble bath and a trashy novel to read.

I arrived at the Sweetie's shortly before he was preparing to leave for a work obligation for the evening. Upon learning of my illness I could hear the guilt in his voice about having to leave me alone for a few hours. He was ready to cook for me, to go buy me rations. To tend to my illness and nurse me back to health. "But really, Sweetie, it's just a head cold."

How many Sweeties will bend that far backwards for a stuffed up nose? Let's see if he's so generous the next time I stub a toe.