I have a cold. I’m not one for colds. I don’t mean that I don’t like them. No one likes them, I just usually don’t get them often. But, over the last few days, I have one. It’s a doosey and it’s left me feeling slightly like a woman slowly waking up out of a coma. Day in and day out, I feel like I’m traveling through a not-so-unpleasant water up to my neck. Things are heavy and my brain is groggy.
Yet, things have to get done. Jokes have to be written. Blog posts created. Presents wrapped and things organized for a trip to the in-laws. I feel bad for Wifesy, as I am not the typical go getter, mover and shaker of our everyday lives. Right now I’m a slug. I do the laundry and I have to take a nap. I wrap a present and I have to take a nap. I walk the dog and I have to take a nap. The only creature this doesn’t annoy is the dog. She looks at me as if to say, “This is how I’ve always wanted it. Sleeeeeep, Snow White, sleeeeeeep.”
Normally, when I get a cold I try to forego the meds. I’m not really a take-the-meds type of person. But, not this time. Feck it. Anything to get the bug out of me. So, I’ve been taking Dayquil pills during the day and last night, for the first time in ages, I took Nyquil to sleep…
And here’s what happened…
Within 5 minutes of taking the Nyquil, I started tripping and I mean tripping hard. Everything was funny to me. Wifesy started pseudo yelling at me that the jeans I had just taken to be tailored were too big. I said, “What’s wrong with them? Maybe I just need a belt?”
And she said, “They make you look like you have a d*ck.”
For some reason, that made me laugh so hard I nearly wet myself.
Bwwaahaahhhhaaaah. Yaahahahaaaaaahaaaa. Haaaaaahhhhhaaaaahhh.
I just couldn’t stop. When I finally looked over at Wifesy she had that puzzled look on her face that I can only assume people make right before they put a loved one into an institution.
I gathered myself together as best as I could and slumped into bed.
Wifesy went around trying to pack for our trip. However, I’m sick and her doing other things just wouldn’t do. I’m sorry, but getting sick will turn even the most mature of adults into the biggest baby in the world.
I wanted attention.
So I started to flag Wifesy down with my arms. “Wifesy, oh, Wifesy,” I waved my arms back and forth to no avail. Then it occurred to me that I looked like a gynormous bird there in the bed flapping my arms about. I flapped them even harder in an attempt to levitate.
Bwwwaaahhhha. Haaahhhhhaaaaah. Waaaaahhhhhhaaaaahhh.
I couldn’t stop laughing. Wifesy would laugh a little bit and then compose herself and go back to packing. Her ultimate goal was to ignore my antics. I tried to enlist the dog, but she looked frightened.
I didn’t know where to turn. What does the modern girl do when she doesn’t know where to turn? She turns to the internet.
I googled, “Nyquil makes me loopy.” And then “Nyquil makes me high.” And lastly, “Can’t stop laughing on Nyquil.”
Eventually, it led me to this…
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