When the cough turns into that hoarse raspy smoker’s cough, you know it’s time to stay home. It’s in my lungs now and the air particles tickle my throat when I lie down. So now I’m forcing myself to sit on the couch, suck on those menthol cough drops (but they taste so gross), drink some orange juice and relax.
Why is it so hard for me to relax? I feel like I should be accomplishing something always, however miniscule it may be.
Here is my thought process:
“Maybe I can go to yoga.”
“No, when you lie down you cough, you can’t disrupt the other yogis. Don’t be dumb. Sit on the couch.”
“Maybe I can go for a run.”
“Are you kidding yourself? It’s cold out there and you don’t have the energy to run. Don’t be an idiot. Stay put.”
“How about I go grocery shopping, I have nothing to eat in the house.”
“Yeah, and cough all over the fresh vegetables, you would not get the most upstanding citizen award for that.”
So, instead. I sit. With my computer on my lap. And I cough.
I can’t wait till I feel better.