One flu over this nest as well

I've had a traumatic week of sniffles and non-stop coughathons. It wasn't a pretty sight, good god no.

Of course, I had to explain to all and sundry that it was just the flu and not THE flu. After a point, it got to be quite exasperating. I mean, they should've figured it out themselves- no one, absolutely no one, is going to be taking phone calls while simultaneously entertaining a near-death situation.

But that's just how we are, aren't we? We love to get into a tizzy about some new fiasco or threat of impending doom, while the real demons work their doomsday voodoo on us every single day, and we're either too stupid or slovenly to wake up and smell the goddamn coffee.

As much fun as it's bound to be, making up this 'FOR REAL- DEMONS AT LARGE' list, I shall pass, mostly because I've still got the flu hangover and incessant bouts of coughing and blowing my nose in order to regain my fundamental right to breathe has put me in a rather foul mood.

But oh well, I'm not one to start something and get no where with it. Lets take, for example, the issue of drainage. Unlike the charming ditty in 'My fair Lady', the rain over here falls mainly in the drain. Every year, we pray for the rains to come, and when they do, we pray even harder for them to stop. That's got to be confusing for you-know-who up there. And yet, precious little is done about it. Every year, at least one little boy loses his life to an open man-hole, and countless others get electrocuted while walking to work, or school or just to the grocery store around the corner to pick up whatever water-logged vegetables are available for the evening meal. But hey, as long as it's not contagious, right?

Of course, my sympathies go out to all those who succumbed to the fatal flu. They probably didn't even know they had it until it was too late. And the rest of us can breathe a sigh of relief, at least until the next monster rears its ugly head.

As for me, sometime in the vicinity of 3 a.m. I shall be forced to grope in the dark for my trusty old friend Vicks Vaporub, and upon finding it, I shall sniff and snort its oh-so-heavenly-goodness like a coke addict until the waves of menthol carry me over safely to the dawn.