Quick cold

The worse is when you feel it coming. The sandpaper throat when you swallow. The itching in your ears. The high school marching band wailing off key in your head. I loaded up the vitamins, drank some tea, but it’s too late already. It’s like trying to pee on a forest fire to put it out (or making the guy pee on the forest fire, as a lady that’s something I’d never attempt – one hot bottom).

However, I am optimistic this will be a quick cold. The first day is always the worst. And hopefully my mind will clear enough to finish a poem and hopefully it’s warm enough to open the door. The sun is out after a weekend of torrential rains and downed trees whose exposed roots remind me of the crazy we all carry around inside that we never let anyone see until the storms topple us over.

We got a new french press for coffee and I like making things a little slower. Untechnology, unexpressed. And maybe I’ll make some oatmeal topped with brown sugar and bananas. I’m not sure about lunch yet maybe some soup high on too much sodium. I was going to say something else important and now I’ve forgotten, but it probably wasn’t very important after all.

Pat told me my job today was to sleep. But it’s too sunny and I finally remembered what I wanted to say before – I have a lot of baggage that I’m trying to lose. Today is a good day for flying.

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