The weather in New York this winter can best be described as schizophrenic. In early January, I attended a wedding and didn’t even bring any kind of coat, other than a suit jacket. Even a few weeks ago, when the winter is usually biting, February saw temperatures in the 70s.
That changed over the past two weeks, as New York faced temperatures in the low teems that turned sub-zero with the wind chill. One of the nifty results: everyone is sick.
New York 1 News reported that the current class of the New York City Police Academy is suffering from widespread flu. Just about everyone I know is sick or getting over being sick. I got a nasty cold a few weeks ago and was all better this past Monday. Then I started feeling tired, and like I was getting a sore throat. By Wednesday, people at work were telling me that I sounded horrible. My boss even told me to skip work on Friday (I went in anyway but left early – I would have felt worse this weekend if I didn’t get a few things done, that’s how paranoid I am)
The only pleasure that being sick brings is the self competition to cough up bigger and better pieces of lung cheese. Perhaps we can start a competition every winter among the sick as to who can produce the largest green lung goblin. Perhaps we can get the pharmaceutical companies to sponsor it – but then again, wouldn’t taking an expectorant be cheating?
Hopefully I’ll be well enough by Monday to go back to work without sounding like a Manatee dying in a sea of snot.
That changed over the past two weeks, as New York faced temperatures in the low teems that turned sub-zero with the wind chill. One of the nifty results: everyone is sick.
New York 1 News reported that the current class of the New York City Police Academy is suffering from widespread flu. Just about everyone I know is sick or getting over being sick. I got a nasty cold a few weeks ago and was all better this past Monday. Then I started feeling tired, and like I was getting a sore throat. By Wednesday, people at work were telling me that I sounded horrible. My boss even told me to skip work on Friday (I went in anyway but left early – I would have felt worse this weekend if I didn’t get a few things done, that’s how paranoid I am)
The only pleasure that being sick brings is the self competition to cough up bigger and better pieces of lung cheese. Perhaps we can start a competition every winter among the sick as to who can produce the largest green lung goblin. Perhaps we can get the pharmaceutical companies to sponsor it – but then again, wouldn’t taking an expectorant be cheating?
Hopefully I’ll be well enough by Monday to go back to work without sounding like a Manatee dying in a sea of snot.
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