I very rarely get sick. I think my last cold might have been in 2016? Can’t tell you the exact date, other than, literal years ago. So when I felt a tickling sensation in my throat late last week, I didn’t pay it much attention.
Until I started coughing.
Even then, I was in denial. But by Monday morning, it was painfully obvious: I had a full-fledged cold.
It’s amazing how quickly I pivoted from “I am not sick!” to “Babe, I think I might have that coronavirus. Could be the avian flu or mad cow disease, though. Maybe there’s some weird hybrid of the three and I am Patient Zero.”
Fortunately, I have a job that allows me to work from home, which is why I have been ensconced at the kitchen table for the past two days with a laptop, hot soup, and Dayquil. Turns out I picked a pretty good time to get sick, because it started snowing Monday morning around 10 a.m. and didn’t let up…yet. 27 hours later it’s still coming down a little, but the sun is finally breaking through the clouds and it appears those flurries are down to their last gasp. I’m not sure what our snowfall total is exactly; we had 8″ on the ground at 6 a.m. and it snowed at least another 1-2″ after that. Calling it 10″ certainly isn’t exaggerating.
The good thing about all this snow (which ended up being way more than predicted)? We finally got to use our snowblower. Yes, I am sick, and probably shouldn’t have gone out there to clear the driveway and sidewalk. But snowblowers have gas-powered engines and pistons and carburetors. Testosterone boosters, all of them. I’ve been chomping at the bit to try ours out and wasn’t about to let a little thing like a cold stop me.
To be honest, those initial five minutes turned into a comedy of errors as I tried to figure out first how to start it, and then how to operate it. Even the damn snow chute was causing me all sorts of grief. I’d be aiming it at places I had just cleared, or into the wind, where it came blowing back into my face. I turned the snowblower off to regroup, and then promptly flooded the engine when attempting to restart it. All our neighbors were out, clearing their own driveways. I’m sure they were laughing at me.
But I got it started again, learned how to work the controls and where to aim the flying snow, and within minutes had mastered the beast. Tara took over shortly, because again, I didn’t want to push my luck. Gotta say though, this thing is slick and did a great job clearing almost a foot of wet snow. What took us 10 minutes with the snowblower would have taken 45 minutes shoveling. Thanks again, mom and dad! This truly is a gift that will keep on giving.
I don’t feel quite as bad as I did yesterday, but will probably need a third day of recovery at home before I feel up to returning to the office. And because I never let a little thing like a cold ruin my day, I told Tara not to be surprised if she finds me nursing a glass of wine this evening.
Alcohol does kill germs, right?!