An itch you can’t scratch, a tickle that won’t go away
This morning someone asked me why I was still coughing. Now that I’ve written it down it sounds kind of rhetorical, but it didn’t seem that way at the time. I didn’t think it was meant to be a loaded question, but half a dozen loaded answers came to mind. My favorite was: “my body is a temple of perpetual illness.” I didn’t say it out loud though. That’s the only reason for this post. I may have stumbled upon the main reason I blog – to say the things I didn’t say when it really mattered, when the money was on the table, the pressure was on… go time.
On this particular occasion, I didn’t give a verbal reply at all. Instead I gave one of my sad, shoulder-shrugs of resignation. It’s my signature move. A little tip of the shoulders, a flip of the hands, palms raised, seemingly pleading for mercy from the almighty, a disarming, understated smile… it’s one of my few real talents.
One day I’ll get over this stretch of pesky colds. Emboldened by my fully recovered immune system, I’ll laugh in the face of infection. In the mean time, I think I’ll go grab my inhaler.