I habe a code. My sinuses are pretty stuffed up. I have spent the past day or two pretty much sitting in my room repeatedly blowing my nose. Today I took a brief break to eat some coconut chicken soup ("Tom Kha Gai"), which my partner cooked and brought to me in my room ("Luh Kee Gai"), and then I went back to blowing my nose.
Let this serve as reproof to all those people who said I wasn't qualified to blow my own nose. I have had lots of practice over the past few days. Although at this point my nose hurts, which makes me worry that those people may have been right, and I'm not qualified for this after all and I'm somehow doing it wrong. Maybe I should have been using Kleenex instead of porcupines.
I am picking up my quill to write though, because in spite of what would feel more fair, the world does not go on break for a few days just because one gets a cold. This has been a pretty serious cold though. Those of you who are easily grossed out should skip to the next paragraph immediately, and not read the following sentence. If I saved all the snot I had produced in the past 48 hours, I would have a full jar and no friends.
As I was saying, the world continues on, and I am writing this on the eve of the first of April. As some of you know and the rest of you are about to by the end of this sentence, April is National Poetry Month. There aren't a lot of poems about being sick. In fact, the only collection of being sick poems I know was written by one of my role models, Ogden Nash. He has a volume titled: "Bed Riddance: A Posy for the Indisposed," and poems called "The Sniffle," "Winter Complaint" and "Common Cold."
The latter includes these lovely couplets:
"I did not call you to be told
My malady is a common cold [...]
By racking snuffle, snort, and sniff;
By handkerchief after handkerchief;
This cold you wave away as naught
Is the damnedest cold man ever caught!"
Now, as has often been said, I am no Ogden Nash. But because it is National Poetry Month, I am participating in the WordXWord 30/30 poetry challenge, where I will try to write a poem every day in the month of April. And I may as well start right here, taking the esteemed Mr. Nash as inspiration.
FROM START TO FINISH
Some people consider it rude
That my default is hermitude.
Given my druthers,
I oft stay inside and avoid others.
But last week, it bears mention,
I attended a convention,
Filled with delightful gaming insanity,
And terrifying masses of humanity.
While the former may have been fun,
Without the latter I could certainly have done.
Because I do not normally tax my immune system,
So viruses get through because my defenses missed ‘em.
And you may consider my aversion to people silly,
But is having a cold fun? Nost really.
Snot fun at all. So while I wait for this mucus to diminish,
I vow henceforth to avoid all human interaction from start to finish.
Seth Brown is a humor writer, the author of "It Happened In Rhode Island," and knows Ogden Nash's work is nothing to sneeze at. His work appears weekly in the Transcript and weakly on RisingPun.com.