a slice of cough medicine

Things still aren't straight for me. This cough is hanging on like a death grip saving your life from falling off the ledge of a thirteen-storey building, and my energy level is buried somewhere out back under all the snow that won't be melting until sometime in the summer. I don't have a clue when I'll ever dig my way out. It all sounds so tiring as it is.

Someone come tell my body to perk up and at least pretend that it likes me. And while I'm thinking of it, I think somebody ought to volunteer for a birthday kiss with my birthday coming up soon. I don't think this is the best audience for that type of request, but maybe one of you knows somebody who knows somebody who wouldn't be afraid of the whole idea. I don't want to arrange something with any of the "local singles in my area" that I already see here and there. It's just not even something I'm up for right now. And it has to be a good kiss. None of that scratching my face off with razor sharp facial hair jazz. That's my one request in all this business.

I wouldn't even be saying/thinking/writing/feeling any of this if I weren't so, to quote myself, "tired of kissing people I don't love." And you know, I certainly shouldn't say much more than that. But I believe that is quite enough.

Now that I think of it, I probably should erase some of this stuff. Like, who even wants to know that I am still sick and don't even care if I get someone else (even a stranger!) sick for my birthday. It is disturbing even to me that I'd write these things out. But whatever. If this is as adventurous as I get under the circumstances, I think I'm doing alright.

And these are the things I think and write about while under the influence of cough medicine. Just call this the first installment of the cough medicine chronicles. Then you need to cross your fingers (and possibly your toes) that I never need to write another one of these "chronicles" again.