Not my cold.

My own snot is fine, but I don't like the snot of others. I suspect you feel the same way, so I am not going to write about my cold.

[The cold that tried to choke me to death in the middle of the night. I stayed awake, always on my guard, ready to cough up phlegm whenever the breathing got too raspy. (I also stayed awake because it was a big night for drunk dials from hooligan friends.)

The cold that almost dripped out of my nose into the till on my first day of training at Diva Espresso.

The cold that forced me to brew stupid herbal tea because it would "soothe my throat" (pssshhh) instead of the usual strong, delicious, caffeinated English Breakfast.

The cold that had me questioning whether to take those Crohn's-stopping imminuosuppressants. Constant tummy grumbles or constant throat scratchies? I chose the latter.

The cold that had me sneezing on the cat just now. Hahahaha! That's what he gets for demanding affection when all I want to do is write about how I'm not writing about my cold.)

Unfortunately for you, the cold dominated my life today, and I have nothing else to write about.