The Plague

by Janie Jones

…is back in town.

I was born with a very fine constitution. It served me well for 35 years. I spawned, and the spud had a very fine constitution. We didn’t have to give her an antibiotic until she was three. That was the first time she’d ever been to a doctor for anything other than well child vaccinations. Then the spud started going to day care. The germ riddled environment shared with several dozen smalls of poor hygiene, coupled with her compulsion, even at the age of 5 and a half, to touch everything she can get her hands on to her face, nose and mouth have taxed even the finest of immune systems and therefore, for the last two years we have not been enjoying a veritable nightmarish parade of colds.

Betwixt the snot oozing plague passer I call my daughter and the retards coming into my office to have pulmonary function tests while hacking, wheezing and spewing phlegm everywhere, my own excellent immune system threw up it’s hands and went on strike. So, I find myself in a hotel room with a head cold and wishing I were miserable in my own bed.

It is doubly miserable because I have a tauntingly beautiful lake view, and the weather is perfectly sunny and mild this evening while I am cooped up inside sneezing and snoddering my brains out.

Well, at least I have a view to enjoy. Not as nice as a whirlpool suite, but way better than staring out over the parking lot. I guess I just might have a legitimate excuse to use that huge bank of sick hours after all.

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2 Comments to “The Plague”

  1. Oh man, colds SUCK. Hope you feel better soon.

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