Yesterday morning I woke up sneezing. Not an uncommon thing to happen to me. However as the day progressed my nose clogged up and I began to grow a fever. I was annoyed; I was in no mood to get sick. My nose was the obnoxious sort of clogged up where a thin stream of snot was constantly running out, however no matter how hard I blew I could not clear it.
So I decided to try the home remedy of getting spicy food when you feel a cold come on. I went to the Thai place for lunch and got some sort of spicy soup and some red curry to boot. Back at work I then downed a couple of alka seltzer cold and flue. When I got home I took a Nyquil gel cap that had been sitting in my cupboard for probably a couple of years now, and took a cold bath. I conked out around 9pm and slept like a dead dog until morning. This morning I feel great, so I am going to assume my cold passed. Hooray for Thai food and cold baths.
Right now I am fingering a mutant eyebrow hair that seems to be sticking out of my eyebrow. For whatever reason it is about four times linger than any other eyebrow hair. I supposed I should yank it out before it grows so long that it ends up in my eye. Eyebrow hair is sort of weird.
Summer needs to end. I am sick of the hot. SICK.
2026 Update
Setting the dial for September 4, 2007: Ed defeats a cold, but his eyebrow hair remains undefeated.
Ah, 2007, when a man defeated a cold with soup, expired medication, and a freezing bath and felt like a conqueror. I miss how personal illness used to be—no symptom-tracking app, no telehealth triage bot, just Thai takeout and a Nyquil that had been aging in a cupboard like fine wine. Now everything is subscriptions: you need a streaming service for your cough, an app for your snot, a delivery fee for your curry, and a whole digital ecosystem to tell you that you have a cold and not the plague. Also, the "cold bath" idea—Ed, my dear, you were running a fever and you took a freezing bath? That's not health care, that's a betrayal of the flesh. And "flu" was spelled "flue" because spellcheck was an aspiration. Eyebrow hair aside, the era of banging on about how "summer needs to end" without twenty weather apps predicting your every bead of sweat feels almost wholesome.
“2007 Ed, you blame the heat while a fever and a curry rage in you, but truly—was the cold bath a cure, or did you simply want to feel something besides that "mutant eyebrow hair"? And why did you not just yank it out before writing about it?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2007 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, you sure know how to poke at a man's weaknesses. Honestly? Probably a little of both. That cold bath wasn't just for the fever; it was the only thing that made me feel like my skin wasn't on fire from the dang Florida heat, and yes, maybe it distracted me from that stupid eyebrow hair for a while. As for yanking it out, I had every intention to, but then I got distracted by the thought of Thai soup and the next thing I knew I was writing about it. That's how my brain works. I'll pluck it tonight, I swear. Until then, it's my little mutant companion, sticking out like a flag of surrender against summer. Take that, foul germs. And take that, mutant hair. Eventually.
