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MEDIC!
I'm at the whiny stage of the cold now. It's like the 5 stages of grief only with a bucketful of phlegm in my head.

Denial: What's that? a tickle in the back of my throat? It's nothing. I am not getting sick. No matter that 2 of my colleagues have been swarming with germs in and out of my office, I WILL NOT GET SICK.

Anger: Stupid %$#^%@! coworkers and their stupid $^#&$*!~ germs!!

Bargaining: If I pop 2 Tylenol now, I'll be fine, I'm sure. I'll just go to sleep a little earlier, and do my walk tomorrow. Yeah.

Depression: I hab a code id by node ad by froat hurtz ad by node is all red ad nobody loves bee I thig I'll go ead worms. wwwaaah!

Acceptance: My voice is SO SEXY!

Bonus Stage
Irony: I went to work today. Now I'm the germy coworker! muahahahaha!

Hey pretty internets, tell me more poetry, that will make me feel better.

Edited to add: Pretty please?
 sick
mood: sick
music: there is no music, there is only phlegm in the head


Comments

Common Cold

Go hang yourself, you old M.D.!
You shall not sneer at me.
Pick up your hat and stethoscope,
Go wash your mouth with laundry soap;
I contemplate a joy exquisite
I'm not paying you for your visit.
I did not call you to be told
My malady is a common cold.

By pounding brow and swollen lip;
By fever's hot and scaly grip;
By those two red redundant eyes
That weep like woeful April skies;
By racking snuffle, snort, and sniff;
By handkerchief after handkerchief;
This cold you wave away as naught
Is the damnedest cold man ever caught!

Give ear, you scientific fossil!
Here is the genuine Cold Colossal;
The Cold of which researchers dream,
The Perfect Cold, the Cold Supreme.
This honored system humbly holds
The Super-cold to end all colds;
The Cold Crusading for Democracy;
The Führer of the Streptococcracy.

Bacilli swarm within my portals
Such as were ne'er conceived by mortals,
But bred by scientists wise and hoary
In some Olympic laboratory;
Bacteria as large as mice,
With feet of fire and heads of ice
Who never interrupt for slumber
Their stamping elephantine rumba.

A common cold, gadzooks, forsooth!
Ah, yes. And Lincoln was jostled by Booth;
Don Juan was a budding gallant,
And Shakespeare's plays show signs of talent;
The Arctic winter is fairly coolish,
And your diagnosis is fairly foolish.
Oh what a derision history holds
For the man who belittled the Cold of Colds!

Ogden Nash

*applauds* Ogden was a genius!

October 2019
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