I hate colds, and it's been quite a few years since I've had to suffer through one. Until now. Heck, I thought I'd grown immune to colds. Then this one snuck up and clobbered me.
It started out as a scratchy throat, and I felt a little bit out of whack. Even though it had been some years since my last one, I knew I was feeling the onset of a dreaded cold. The scratchy throat turned to a sore throat the next day. The following day brought the stuffy head and body aches. The day after that, I thought I was going to die. And the day after that, I lost my sense of smell, and my taste buds were rendered useless. Finally, over the last few days, I gradually improved. In fact, yesterday, I was able to jog three miles.
I hate colds. This cold made me waste most of the week and made me feel like crap while I was wasting those seven days or so. I'd much rather waste time by going fishing, although – to me, anyway – catching fish is hardly a waste of time.
Catching a cold wasn't such a bad thing when I was a kid, for I got to stay home from school. Keep in mind that I hated school then as much as I hate a cold now. Also, my mom fed me delicious Campbell's chicken noodle soup, gave me 7-Up to settle my tummy, and she would stop by the local newspaper shop, which also sold magazines and comic books, and buy me a couple of comics. A homebound kid suffering a debilitating cold needed a couple of new comic books – maybe the latest issue of "Superman" and perhaps the newest "Daffy Duck."
While my classmates were stuck in school, I was relaxing in my bedroom, surrounded by the menthol smell of Vicks VapoRub. I sipped my 7-Up and read about Superman saving Lois Lane.
Those were the days, but now is now. I have to get back to writing, mowing the grass and cleaning the garage. Of course, I'll have to find a few hours sometime in there to go down to Silver Creek with my fishin' pole and pull out some supper. I can't waste any more time. There are fish to be caught.