So how was your day?
Dispatches from New York
Wake from benadryl induced slumber that was filled with fever dreams of going to a gym in the back of a Walgreens with a moustached 80s star. I’m pretty sure it was Tom Selleck’s head on Hulk Hogan’s body.
Take hottest shower known to man. Drain every fluid save blood and lymph. Throats fine today but my nose won’t stop running – inverse of yesterday. Can’t get the neti pot to work and wind up coughing out chunks of nutrigrain bar from the back of my throat.
Not enough time but have leftover iced coffee anyway to cut the fugue. It kind of works. I used Benadryl in an attempt to sleep 16 of the past 20 hours of my life. It sorta worked.
Walk half mile into wind to station. G platform. Then train. Then herd to L platform. Then squish. I thought the lady rolling a cello in a case around was crazy for being here at rush hour until saw the guy with the tuba.
Ebb and flow of transit. The L gets worse the later I leave my apartment but the 4 gets better. I get lucky with both and don’t have to cough in anyone’s face.
The trip on the 4 is always longer than it should be. An impossibly thin Asian woman with impossibly high stilettos takes the steps singly and slowly as I exit to Wall Street, the breeze making me again long for a hoodie. When I moved here in June I forwent packing any cold weather clothes in favor of art supplies. In retrospect this seems foolish and at least partially to blame for this sickness.
It’s a beautiful day out but everything is covered in the fine layer of fuzz illness brings. I will probably leave work early but being a temp means serous budget adjustments should I do so. So – they get typhoid Mary in their midst and I get to make rent. We all win!
After 3 surprisingly productive hours I seek a new quest: soup. Godspeed, stuffy warrior.