A few of us are sniffling our way through a little summer cold. Thankfully, it seems to be a short-lived batch and it mainly is making its presence known through sneezy noses, achy sinuses and molars and a little fatigue. But it still makes me grumpy.
Grumpy because colds are for wintertime. A blustery, wet winter day is perfectly accented by a mild cold. Firesides are so much cozier with a slathering of Vicks on the chest. A cold carefully scheduled to take place post-Christmas and during a snow storm is absolutely glorious. A perfect snowy evening appertif is Ny-Quil followed by a cup of hot tea. Warm socks, soft afghans, a box of tissues and a chill in the air--ah, perfect setup for legitimately working my way through that thick novel with no guilt.
Summer colds, however, are anathema. How can you tell if you're feverish when it's close to 100 degrees outside? Clammy could just be sweaty and inability to draw a full breath is probably due more to the ridiculous humidity than to any physical side effect. Colds just don't feel the same sipping iced tea. Some things just weren't meant to go together, kind of like Matt and Meredith or Katie and CBS. When you've got a winning combo, you don't mess with it. Each has aspects which compliment the other.
So I suppose the only thing to do is reframe this summer cold experience: from this point forward, it's allergies. Yep, allergies, which for some reason feels more like a cold and yields a slight fever and will probably be over in the next day or two. But allergies it is...there, I think I'm feeling better already...