I have a wicked, wicked cold and I think I'm dying. I'm stuffed up to hog heaven. (The cold, apparently, is bringing out my southern roots. I don't think I've ever used the expression "hog heaven" before this very moment. Strange.)
Out of nowhere, I was hit by a cold on Friday night. It was like on cue. I was having a romantic dinner that we had to wrap up early because I had turned into a sneezing machine.
I'm now hopped up on all kinds of cold medicine. Nyquil, Dayquil, etc. It doesn't seem to be making a dent. And tomorrow is, of course, Monday. I feel like a wimp calling in sick with a cold.
I'm just really a giant, whining baby right now. I thank you for letting me vent.
Seriously, though, can a cold kill you? I've never had a cold that Nyquil didn't make, at least, a little better.
The blog I need help with is pattydixon.com.