3/3/22 Journal: Sick of It

We need to file our income taxes soon, and I’m starting to wonder if I can claim “Sinus Infection” as a dependent. It’s seemingly taken permanent residence here, and it’s not like it doesn’t cost me a lot of damn money.

Yes, most of my family is sick this week. If you follow this blog, you’ll remember that most of my family was sick last week. This is getting straight stupid. When I was single, I’d get some kind of cold once a year. Now I seem to get one free with every meal.

I remember when I first got back into the mortgage business, I worked with a different company in an executive suite* right next to my long-time friend Bob. I’d noticed that he always had some runny nose or coughing thing going on.

“Dude, you look like shit,” I once told him.

“Ah man, I caught another cold.”

“Yeah, that too.”

“Real funny. It’s my kids, man. They’re always bringing some crud home from school.”

“Don’t you eventually build up an immunity or something?”

“Well, I’m not dead yet. I think this is immunity. You just wait, man. This will be you soon.” At the time, Evi was pregnant with our first.

“Gee,” I muttered weakly. “Can’t wait.”

To be perfectly accurate, the girls brought home some sinus infection that got me last week, while my wife bragged that her vitamin and nutritional supplements had kept her healthy. However, this week, the girls picked up something different in class–maybe it’s Let’s All Catch a Fever Week–that nailed Evi, but as of yet I still haven’t caught it.

That’s the worst. Now I have Cold Paranoia. I’m the only healthy person in the house. I’m basically living in a petri dish. Every other second, I’m asking myself questions like, wait is my throat itchy or is it sore? Was that slight bit of heat I felt the beginning of a fever? Oh my God did I drink out of Evi’s cup and expose myself to streptococcus gonnamurderus? I need to gargle bleach right now!

Evi and I have plans for this Saturday, so everybody better get healed up quick. We have to be ready for whatever the hell virus the little shits bring home next week.

* “Executive suite” sounds fancy, but honestly it’s not much more than a cubicle with an actual door. However, I must admit that I sometimes miss that suite. For one thing, the entire time I worked there, not once did anyone on the other side of a shared wall yell “I’M DONE POOPING! SOMEBODY WIPE MY BUTT!”