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Sunday, February 08, 2004
It's official. I have a cold. It's been two years since I had a sickness of any kind. Oh, except that bout of food poisoning last year.
I was feeling invincible. And yes, I started being arrogant. People around me were swooning from the Big Flu. I went on feeling just fine. I thought I had superior genes and I toughened myself through exposure to third world microbes. I was born in Romania, so that automatically exempts me from allergies and your other plebian complaints. If I can drink Ethiopian well water and eat cockroach-tread food, the common cold was a minor opponent. Couldn't even get past the first-line of defense.
Something is obviously wrong with homeland security. How can I survive all that undeveloped countries have to offer, yet am dismantled by a mere commoner of a virus? Intelligence was all wrong. There will have to an inquiry.
"You can't leave yet," they said. "You're the one who said vodka was better than whiskey." ("Help us finish the bottle" was implied.)
I tried to stay longer. Two more sips proved that I needed Neo Citran more than a lemon-lime-grapefruit-mango-vodka juice.
Morning and I am feeling even worse. Despite wearing a Technicolour dream coat to bed. Pista's toque, JJ's unraveling sweatshirt, and the orange Tweety Bird pyjamas mom got me from Bucuresti. Dad's bathrobe is the signature piece that holds all together. I am still freezing. Tea should be ready in a few minutes.
This might pre-empt my evening plans. Damn.
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