Well, ok, actually it's just chicken noodle soup, but it's the first thing I've eaten since I caught this damn flu that actually tasted good. I managed to drive over to the grocery and pick up some soup, more orange juice and Gatorade, and a few saltines to help settle the stomach.
I thought I was starting to feel better but walking around that store sapped me. The fact that the place was crowded with people stocking up because of the forecast of snow to come tonight didn't help much. It seems that the word snow has the power to switch off people's higher brain functions. Several times I had to croak at someone (voice is shot from coughing) to get out of the way as they mindlessly blocked the aisles. A polite "excuse me" just wasn't working on these Night Of The Living Dead rejects.
But I managed to get my supplies and return to my nice warm room. While it's only canned soup it was hot and steamy and tasted wonderful. I managed to eat every drop of it without feeling like I'd just swallowed a brick and without it threatening to swim back upstream on me. I now truly understand the much overused term comfort food.
I'm on the recovering side of this damn flu now. I am sure that yesterday I could never have managed to make it through that store, I simply wouldn't have had the energy. I'll be glad to get back to my old abnormal self and get back to work. Between the previous week's breakdown and this past week's flu I've lost out on two weeks worth of income and that really sucks moose teet.
Of course that also means I can't afford to go home either, but that's a minor issue at this point. There are bills to be paid and that is the curse of the working man after all. I need to shake this thing and get back in the saddle.