Who knew?

Such a tiny little virus could make me feel so miserable!

I feel like someone's put that spray foam you use to insulate your house in my ear canals.

My throat feels like I've dined on prickly thorns for a week.

My tonsils feel like the big heavy bags at the gym, repeatedly punched into submission.

My nose like a snot delivery chute. You see my head is so full of it, the nose has merely become dispensing system, throwing out its contents at the most inopportune times.

My sinuses feel like a safe full of treasures as the mounting pressure dents its sides after being plunged into the briny deep. (yar!)

For a short while yesterday I think Dave was concerned he had married a man - the cold is effecting my voice which is annoyingly high pitched and fast paced on most days but now low, lethargic and raspy.

Despite my newfound manliness, Dave has been the consummate cold-feeder. He bought me ice cream and ginger beer last night when my throat was screamingly sore, and I'm enjoying the pudding he purchased as well, along with the throat drops and off-brand neo citran for which he was the midnight run driver earlier this week. He even went to bed with me at 8:00pm last night, a bedtime I haven't seen since I was eight.

If those things don't make me well, I don't know what will.