Dreary

Here I am, up in the middle of the night, feeling sorry for myself. As usual, anything negative that happens to me is my own fault. Earlier this week I got a flu shot. I have not been sick in over a year. I don't have much contact with people and, anytime that I go out, the first thing that I do when I get home is go into the bathroom and wash my hands for twenty seconds at least. I awakened shortly after midnight and realized that I have a very sore throat. I tried to get back to sleep but was unable to. No contact with people, wash my hands scrupulously, where did I get a sore throat? Not only did I get a flu shot but I was there in a room with a hundred old people, all sniffling and coughing and barking. I didn't get the flu from the flu shot, I got the flu while getting the flu shot.
Today I will make chicken stock and try to drown the guilty organisms with chicken soup! With all of the crap that I throw down my throat, how can anything live there? Nothing is so pitiful as a man with a cold. Sitting with a pile of tissues, wrapped in a blanket, lamenting the fact that his Mother is not on the way with chicken soup and popsicles. I do have a large container of Ernesto and Julio's cold remedy and, if the soup doesn't work, there is always that.