The Sniffles

Tight throat, itchy eyes, drippy nose and a head you wish you could pop? Check. Check. Checkity Check.

I am sick, sicker than sick. I hear the footsteps of death on my doorstep...(Ok so maybe not that bad, but it ain't good regardless...)

I felt it coming last week and did my best to fight it, but alas I lost. It's ferocity triumphed and here I lie, in a blanket of tissues- who simultaneously lost their own war with the increasingly pink tip of my schnoz.

With each tickle of the nose and teared eye, I feel the germ-infested transformation begin- turning me overnight into some hybrid human-boogeyman- and not the kind who hides under the bed inducing fear in children, no- the kind who whimpers after each blow upon relentless blow, a casualty of my samurai of a sinus infection.

With nothing to do but dab at my sniffer and exhaust my supply of Charmin, a new love has been born- the charming Masterpiece Classic series "Downton Abbey" has caught my heart. I'm in- hook, line and sinker obsessed. Tales of women in the throws of passion over dowry's gone awry, missing stable boys and an all too mischievous house staff, well, I can't seem to get enough. I guess I'll chalk it up as the one good thing to come from this unwelcome surrender of my body into the jaws of the germs today.