sweat hog

Yesterday was a short workday. I left halfway through the day after much prodding from coworkers who likely weren't amused by my constant nose blowing. As a result, I spent most of yesterday in a supine position, hoping that the mucus would run out of my sinuses and straight down my throat, rather than clogging every crevice of my head and cutting off my nasal passageways. This worked only periodically and every time I got up I was met with a dizzy spell and subsequent dam break of liquid coming out of my nose. It was hot.

Today, the pressure in my sinuses is so great that my brain is being cooked to perfection and is only lacking the addition of some potatoes and carrots. I'm at work, though, despite feeling like five kinds of ass. The fever has set in. I'm normally freezing at work, but not today. Today my office is a sauna. A sauna of stagnant virus-filled air. I am torn between keeping my door shut to contain the outbreak, which would increase the temperature, or if I would rather share my illness with the rest of the office in lieu of some much needed cool air circulation. I'm opting to keep the door closed, but not for their benefit. I'm on a somewhat short temper due to the pressure in my noggin and I would rather not hear or see any of my coworkers. I guess this could still be viewed as an off-kilter form of altruism.

Things are still weird with the man, mainly because we are both ill and don't have the energy to make up. We don't even hug each other, we just kind of lean into one another, hoping that we can balance that way without either of us collapsing. This unspoken avoidance, even though it is illness-induced, makes the argument feel as though it is being prolonged. We make a good couple, the man and I. He is busy hacking out his lungs while my nose has become a spigot of nastiness.

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