Heads or Tails #77 -- Love

Fabulous. I miss two weeks worth of Heads or Tails due to work and illness, and I find that Barb wants us to write about "love."

There's a reason I chose "Curmudgeon" as a nom de plume, you know -- and it isn't because I get icky, sicky sentimental on command. I do get misty-eyed, of course; long-time readers have called me out on it in the past.

But it's just not happening today.

I mentioned 'illness' in the intro. There's nothing seriously wrong with me. I've had a cold now since about the beginning of 2009. Already on a low plateau, I went further downhill on Groundhog's Day. I stayed home on February 3 -- incapable even of following a movie on TV. By coincidence I had a doctor's appointment scheduled that evening. The sole accomplishment of my day was moving the appointment up a couple of hours. And now I'll have to go back next month, too: The doctor isn't used to seeing sick people.

That's not how medicine works in America. So I have to go back when I'm healthy.

And I'm so congested. My sinuses make the L.A. freeway system at rush hour look like deserted country roads. And oxygen deprivation takes its toll, you know: I've had a case of the stupids for what seems like forever. I was talking with an attorney about a pending motion the other day -- a motion that I'd written, and recently, too, so it should be fairly fresh in my mind. But I couldn't recall one of the key arguments. Which was OK because I blanked out on the client's name, too.

I blow my nose constantly. Some people are noisier at this than others. I attract whole flocks of Canadian geese when I start honking. And you should see what a mess they make in a downtown skyscraper. How did they learn how to use elevators anyway?

But apparently the worst comes at night. It seems that I snore. Snore? We live in the traffic pattern for O'Hare International Airport. It is not true that the control tower has called our house because the pilots can't hear their engines over my snoring. However, Long Suffering Spouse can't hear the planes. She gets awakened by my snoring; then she wakes me up to try and make me stop. Sometimes she tries extreme methods. Last night I woke up with my wife pressing a pillow over my face -- pressing hard -- and laughing maniacally. What did she think -- she could suffocate me? I haven't drawn a clear breath since Christmas.

But snoring -- and murder attempts -- are not the only things keeping me awake at night. The experts tell us 'drink plenty of liquids' to fight a cold. I've been drinking liquids. Despite our snowy winter, the water level of Lake Michigan has dropped perceptibly I've drunk so much. Of course that means, when I'm not snoring, I'm trudging to and from the Little Curmudgeon's room.

I'd so love to get a good night's sleep....