Yep, it’s that time again. A couple of week’s relentless traveling; a week of panicked dawn to dusk overwork; a change in the weather; and I have the mother of all colds.
To commemorate the event, I am writing a blues.
“We-e-e-e-ell, I woke up this mornin’,
Sneezin’ up an’ down my bed.
Sat an’ ate my breakfast,
Sneezin’ in my bread.
Lord, why d’ya have to give me
This no-good cheatin’ cold in the head….”
(Copyright 2005 by Deaf Orange Watson)
I went to the drugstore & asked the lady for the latest, greatest, & best thing to deal with a cold. “Take one of these,” she said, offering me CONINUOUS ACTION CONTAC 12-HOUR RELIEF. I took one three hours ago. The 12 hours relief didn’t start yet. Perhaps it’ll start tomorrow. Meanwhile, back to the traditional Derb remedy: a generous portion of Captain Morgan’s in a glass of warmed-up Coca Cola. As my Dad used to say: the cold’s no better, but you don’t give a damn any more.