Summer colds suck. Hard.
Colds are supposed to be winter events. That's why they call them "colds".
Otherwise they'd call them "hots". Or "humids".
Having a cold in the winter, you kinda fit in. Everybody's doin' it. In the summer, coughing, and dripping noses, and droopy eyes should be for those who've overdone it at an outdoor concert. Or bailed hay.
I've done neither. Yet over the past 3 days I've produced enough phlegm to coat a full-size pick-up. Not that anyone would want to. And not like I've saved it. Not all of it.
I feel like a leper. No one else in the big sales meeting was coughing. Not even a stuffy nose or random sneeze.
Me? I was hacking up large portions of organs that looked pretty important. Meanwhile, the sales guys were inching away from me, as if my germs could penetrate their protective shield of overpriced cologne and moral ambiguity.*
Regardless, the streak must go on. And there's nothing like a good run to shake some of lung goobers loose.
Good running,
Doug
*I kid the sales folk.
Numbers: 1.4 miles, and a mucus goblin the size of a softball.
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I'll bring my flask and we'll rub some scotch on it.
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