I finally have a couple of days off.
No big surprise -- I'm sick. I finally succumb to that grippe that seems to be making its rounds at school. I am of foul mood and foul temper.
Sure, it's not the pukies. Not officially, anyway.
However, anyone who has had this will tell you that the first hour awake in the morning is one of hacking so hard and so continuously that all of the phlegm coming forward is like choking up giant globs of puke, anyway. Every time I cough this morning, I have to be near the toilet in case my stomach decides to come up with my lungs.
As the day progresses, my coughs run the gambit from dry and piercing to seal bark to wet with echoing rattles. Although my head feels like it's in a vise, I don't have a fever and would probably be functioning semi-well at school, which is exactly where I'd be had the day not been observance of a national holiday.
I'm getting a little tired of soup, tea, and hot chocolate. It doesn't seem to help much, anyway. I decide that orange juice must be the next defense, so I fill up one of my Christmas mugs. When I empty that and go for a refill, I notice some cava (sparkling wine from Spain) in my refrigerator. I decide that a mimosa in my Christmas mug might make me feel better, too. After all, a mimosa has both orange juice and bubbly fizzy stuff to settle my stomach.
Then I notice the red wine open and recorked. It's a Spanish Monastrell. Red wine is a healthy choice, right? Antioxidants, and all that? Maybe I should have some of that. If all else fails, I can add some juice and fruit and a little tonic, and turn it into a poor version of sangria.
I'm not sure yet which drink of choice pairs better with the thick, cherry-flavored cough syrup I've been downing nor with the camphor-eucalyptus goop I've been spreading across my chest. All I know is that the wine in my house has taken my initial PAIN and turned it into SPAIN, and THAT, my healthy friends, is a great way to spend a lousy day off.
