Touch me I'm sick

I think I'm getting a bit of a cold. The grip tape has been adhered to the back of my throat. My energy level has plummeted. I guess that's alright though, it has to happen from time to time. Suddenly I can't concentrate and I'm simply looking forward to resting...doesn't that sound nice. I'm probably infecting everyone around me with my sickly germs too. It's amazing how fast these little nasties can reduce a full grown adult to a sniveling and helpless child curled up on the couch and desperate for somebody to make them some chicken noodle soup and watch over them as they take a nap. Doesn't that sound nice. I think it's making me more ill just knowing that no such remedy is in my foreseeable future. No, as a man with a cold, you simply suffer and try to ward off the symptoms by any means possible. You go to work, you try to ignore the tell tale signs of your weakness. You attempt to not compromise your schedule for the cold and all the while prolong the experience by ignoring your body's very real need to rest and recover. Yes! We are advanced human race! Science and reason be damned, I've got work to accomplish. Places to be, people to zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Why can't I listen my own advice? I know I should go home and sleep the rest of this day away. Maybe I will. I need some fresh air. A walk and then I'll decide. Ooohh, I should get some Nyquil, that's always fun. Or maybe not, that stuff is too damn addicting. Maybe it's all in my head and I'm really just bored. It is time for something new to happen.