2002-10-31 - 1:08 p.m.
It's that season, my number is up, and I now have a cold. There are plenty of sucky things about being ill, but rather than bitch I'm just going to discuss the elements of being sick that I actually enjoy.
When you have a cold, one tends to be a bit more aloof. Space-cadetedness is both expected and excused. I love that.
I tend to be a fidgety sleeper, turning and fine-tuning pillow placement until comfort is at last realized. When sick, I just get horizontal and boom, I'm a complaisant, sweaty log of a human being.
Everything seems so basic. Eat soup. Wear three sweaters. Hover face above steamy tea. Stare at Maury Povich. Answer "How are ya?" with "I'm okay, but I'm sick."
Let's return to soup. I fucking love soup. In the past 48 hours I've spooned myself bowls of Pumpkin Corn Chowder, Miso, Split Pea, Chicken Bean Chili, Creamy Tomato, and Lentil from Ibbys.
