I shuffle through a delirium towards home, the world around me is lost in a pain-ridden haze of loopy lights and piercing noise. I am set to autopilot, the subway ride, the walk to the pharmacy, the purchasing of anything with the words cold, flu, or sinus in the title are acts that I perform without conscious thought. An armful of whatever might cure me of the disease I have caught, preparing myself to do battle with the congestion, fever, and the mucus that will inevitably escape my body out of any orifice that will let it.
I am thankful for not being from a small town in Manitoba where everyone knows your name, your profession, and will sporadically engage in small talk for the lack of anything better to do. My mental state has devolved to a person possessed by a foul-mouthed, slime-sp
