So, I've been all nervous about adjusting to life with a boy. Since Geo moved home, though, I've been really sick with a cold, so I haven't been able to really put the energy into being the greatest girlfriend (whoops, fiance) and Little Miss Suzy Homemaker. Tonight, in fact, I banished him to the other room to play Halo while I painted my nails and watched a Girl Code marathon. #firstweekhomefail
Whatever. Yeah, I have a gnarly cold. Like, on Friday and Saturday, I had no voice and I lost about 8 pounds from blowing my nose. It's been quite a roller coaster and I've gone from being depressed and voiceless to being high on cold medicine while dancing in the rain. Ugh. I'm exhausted. And now I am at that almost-better-but-not-quite-good point so no one has any more sympathy for because they think I'm fine, but I'm NOT, you guys. I sneezed like a jillion times tonight.
Now, I hesitate to actually even SAY that I'm sick. Because to me a cold is not "sick", just like a hangover isn't "sick". A person who is hungover or has a cold can still do everything that a human should be able to do, you just, like, don't WANT to. I guess that's how I characterize being "sick". So, whatever, I guess I'm not "SICK" but whatever. I hate having a cold.
Every day with a cold is a fresh hell waiting to punch me in the face the second I wake up. On the first morning I'll wake up with a pounding headache and my back feels like I'm a 100-year-old woman who works as a mover. The next day, the aches will be gone but on day two, it feels like I've swallowed 657 knives and steel wool balls in my sleep. My throat is killing me and I can't talk. Luckily (not), it's also about the same day that the hacking coughs start. Every cough feels like how I imagine it feels to give birth or to get kicked in the you-know-what for guys.
Day three comes with a better throat but everything is just, like, leaking. My eyes are watering, my nose is running, coughs are, uh, disgusting, and I'm sweating in my sleep. It's like everything inside me is trying to escape at once. It's gross, sure, but it's better than day four. Everything is better than day four.
On day four of a nasty cold, your body has just gone insane. You're exhausted but you can't sleep because your ability to breathe like a normal homo sapien is non-existent so you can't sleep for longer than 3 minutes at a time. Either your nose is so stuffed up that you may as well just cut it off or your nostrils take turns just shutting down and ruining your life. Oh, and if you're lucky, there will be a slight but constant whistling that comes peeping through the one working nostril that you have. There is something absolutely torturous about only being able to breathe through one nostril at a time that it drives people absolutely insane, which is why everyone complains nonstop about having a cold. Breathing through one nostril or mouth-breathing turns people into demons, probably because only a fraction of the oxygen we need is getting into our body. I hate day four.
Then the rest of the time, it's just general feelings of crappiness. You can't explain why, but you just feel like your whole head is still full of hot garbage and you're angry because the lingering cold is making it impossible to taste the sea salt caramel/dark chocolate bar you bought to make yourself feel better.
Long story short, I'm still getting over a cold (and yeah, probably a hangover too) and my apartment is a mess. But both of my nostrils are in working order, so I'll call it a win.