A day in the life of The Girl With A Headcold In The Middle Of July, as remembered from the fuzzy medicine induced haze that was yesterday:

6am: awake with visions of a pirate ship and Gene Hackman dressed as Johnny Depp still floating in my head.

6:02am: realize that the pirate ship I dreampt about last night was docked in my grandma’s back yard.

6:04am: ponder the size of boat that would actually fit in my grandma’s backyard.

6:05am: wonder why my alarm went off so early today.

6:06am: remember I have to go to work this morning.

6:07am: remember that I am still battling the onset of nasty cold and that all of the icky snot from my nasal cavity has now sufficiently drained into my chest.

6:08am: consider making a “Welcome Home” sign for the sticky green Mucinex man now lodged in my chest.

6:30am: blow my nose continously for three minutes.

6:33am: find myself wishing for the immediate possession of cold medicine with nose-drying capabilities.

6:40am: find myself wishing for a new nasal cavity.

7:30am: decide to forego the celebratory breakfast scheduled at work today as the thought of attempting to mingle with co-workers and force food down my aching throat only makes my head pound more feverishly.

7:40-9am: sleep. wake up. blow my nose. sleep. wake up. blow my nose.

9:30am: start my shift at work.

9:35am: listen to a patient tell me I sound sicker than she feels.

10:00am: decide to call my doctor’s office after two more people tell me I sound like the brown stuff.

10:03am: blow my nose.

10:05am: and again.

10:10am: find myself thinking that I would trade my right arm for cough drops.

10:11am: decide that trading my right arm for cough drops is just plain silly; I would trade my left arm, because I am right handed.

10:15am: call my doctor’s office.

10:16am: consider sending my doctor’s nurse flowers when she tells me medicine will be waiting for me at the pharmacy in minutes.

10:30am: receive pity from my supervisor/released from work for the day.

10:40am: stop by Safeway on the way to grandma’s to purchase coughdrops, strawberries, Tylenol Cold/Flu and sweet blessed Nyquil.

10:50am: look in the rearview mirror of my car and do not recognize my nose because it has become a lovely hue of stoplight red.

11am-12pm: fall asleep in the sun beside the pool.

12:01pm: wake up sweating and realize it’s close to 90 degrees on the cement patio.

12:02pm: decide that sunburn and heatstroke aren’t helpful for the curing of the sickness.

12:30pm: eat strawberries and salad for lunch in what feels like a foggy haze surrounding my head.

1:00pm: wonder if my head has become detached from my body. also wonder if I would fall down if I stood up quickly.

1:03pm: decide that Tylenol Cold/Flu is definitely working. I may feel drunk, but my nose is no longer needing to be attacked with kleenex every three minutes.

1:05pm: Celebrity Poker Showdown.

1:06pm: entertain thoughts about actually being good at poker, and about Maverick.

2:00pm: practice my poker face.

2:30pm: listen to my grandma tell me a story about a time when she crashed a high stakes poker game and “took them all to the cleaners.”

2:40pm: take the first dose of my medicine. eat more strawberries.

3:00pm: stop by the ‘bucks to see baby carrot sister and drink some green tea lemonade.

3:30pm: start giggling, because hey, life is funny. and these meds, boy are they working. or making me drunk. which is working.

5:00pm: try to eat chinese. per mom’s suggestion, use hot mustard to clear sinuses.

5:02pm: nasal cavity. is. on. fire.

5:03-7:00pm: chat with parents about life and colds and the history channel.

7:15pm: home is reached, pajamas are on.

7:17pm: attempt to burn cds.

7:25pm: cd burner is stubborn and error-ridden.

7:45pm: give up trying to get the burner to actually perform necessary burning functions.

8-10:00pm: watch “Hostage.” think that while Bruce Willis looks great bald and in a SWAT t-shirt, this movie stinks. take nyquil. fall asleep on the couch until baby carrot sister gets home from work and laughs at me/comments on the ginormous stack of used kleenex sitting on the coffee table beside the couch.

Sometime after 10pm: fall asleep with a plan to feel better in the morning, or at least, to buy softer kleenex.