I have been suffering from a cold and sore throat for the past 2 days. It reached it's height last night when I gargled with Chloraseptic, used the chloraseptic spray, and then took some Halls. I was trying to figure out what the merged flavor of cherry and mentholyptus would be (mentho-cherry? cherry-lyptous? Men-chertho-lyp-terryous?) before I passed out from exhaustion.
This morning, after getting a solid 7 hours of sleep, I was still congested, and my throat was still sore. I went through the same routine as the night before, and my sore throat was gone, but I was still congested like I had a down comforter jammed into my nasal cavity. I opted to not take any cold relief medicine because it always clouds my thinking, and I'd much rather not be able to breathe than be able to breathe and have the mental capacity of a six years old boy with ADD.
When I went to my meeting in the morning, I was listening listlessly to the agenda driven banter before I was snapped from my eyes-open slumber by someone asking me a question. I responded quickly because a) I didn't want to look like I hadn't been paying attention, which I hadn't, and b) I actually had something very pertinent to say on the issue at hand.
As I began to speak I could feel the pressure on my sinuses start to release, and I was able to string together multiple complex ideas to communicate my point. This would have been impossible had I taken medicine, as I show dramatically below:
"So, ACW, what do you think of the proposal?"
"Whu? Uh. Um, I had a, uh, idea. I, um I mean you, uh. I like birds."
After I said my bit in the meeting I began writing down the tasks that my ideas created for me. Then I thought, "I wonder if there is any corelation between mental function and the impact of an illness on the body?"
The only problem is that it took me two minutes to think of the word "impact," and my postulation was virtually impotent without it. Can you imagine someone saying, "Is there any corelation between mental function and the, uh, you know, stuff an, uh, what sick makes you feel like?" The question answers itself!
Take that Ken Jennings!
This part is colored in orange because that's the color of the DayQuill that I took. Which basically turns my brain to mush. Which explains why the last two paragraphs really don't make any sense. Nor does this one. But, I figured my meeting was over, so why not take the magical dumbening pills, screw my thinking over breathing principles.
Prepare cold! From Hell's heart I stab at thee!