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  • Writer's pictureLeah Jones

DayQuil Fog

I gave blood, which let my allergies rage (maybe, maybe it was the ginormous plane that dropped a ragweed bomb on chicago), which opened up the door to let a cold wrestle me into sleeping on the couch.

That said, I have a cold. The first I’ve had since sometime last winter when I couldn’t take a second off from working at the shop and had to stay in a Day/NyQuil stupor for two weeks. Now I’m just on DayQuil, EmergenC, ColdEZZZE and tea and juice and soup. I went to work, because I’m not sick enough to use a sick day, but then had a sick day temper–which is to say a very short temper.

Please do not go into my cubicle if you have not asked permission. I like to pretend I have some sort of privacy or sense of space. Please, please, when I’m in a DayQuil Fog, double don’t go into my cube. I’ll snap at you something quiet and then leave.

This is my excuse for not writing. I crashed out on the couch last night, giving up on Supernatural. Now I’m going to try and sleep without taking NyQuil, cause I’d like to be drug free for a couple hours. But I’ll give in by 10PM or so and take some, I’m sure.

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