Sniffle, sniffle

I’m sick. I sound like a cross between a frog and a duck. And I don’t really breathe, I sniff air into my lungs. Ironically, I don’t feel that badly. My head hurts and I feel a little lightheaded but I don’t feel bad. Still, it’s pretty apparent that I look sick because my co-workers treat me like I have some sort of plague.

Now, I might have mentioned I work with the public…the young public. And sniff as I might, they are completely and innocently oblivious to my illness. Instead, they are even more demanding and loud than usual.

I can’t complain. There are people at work with vertigo issues that keeps them falling over and they can’t drive, there are those who are sick all the time, and there are those who struggle with sickness much more debilitating than a sniffle.

Still, you should have heard me trying to speak to my parents yesterday. Between my accent, the plugged nose, the fact that we weren’t speaking in English and my sneezes, I have no idea what I sounded like.

Sniff!

 

 

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