Sweaty is the new sexy right?

I am currently on day 5 of dealing with a wicked cold that knocked myself and my youngest right on our behinds. 

So when I realized that the fridge was bare and I had to pick up my prescription, I knew that I would have to venture out into real world and get some necessities.  Single life has its perks.  Being sick and disgusting and single and having to go out to pick up necessities, is not one of them.

Let me set this up for you.  Picture this…

Day 5 of a head/chest cold that is not getting any better.

Every facial orifice is dripping, leaking and running.

Lips are chapped and red.

Have not showered in two days (don’t judge, you’ve been there)

Hair looks like a cross between a troll and a greasy homeless man.

Sweating like a pig in a bacon factory.

Coughing like a 90 yr. old chain smoker.

Of course I am ready to go out to the drug store and grocery shopping!

Decisions, decisions…get fully dressed, partially dressed, go in pajamas?

Ok…I keep my pajama top on, no I didn’t put on a bra (again, don’t judge me…you ladies have been there) pull on some fleece “athletic” pants and a sweater to hide the fact that I am braless in a pajama top.  Ok…not too bad.  However, there is no hairband, hairbrush, or sheep shearers that will take care of my hair issue.  What luck…I have a hat.

Ready to go, slightly sweaty because let’s be honest, it’s the most activity I have had in days.  Fleece “athletic” pants tucked into fugly brown boots, puffy coat to hide the drooping girls and a hat on top of the greasy mess of hair I am currently sporting.  A glance in the mirror tells me to get out and get home asap.

The trip to the pharmacy was quick and painless.  A quick chat with my favourite pharmacy tech and my favourite drug store supervisor, and I am out the door without incident.  Now…grocery store and I am home again under my blankets on the couch.

I zipped my coat right up to hide the pajama top, hat pulled down low to hide the troll hair and gum to hide the “sick breath”.  I had brushed my teeth before I left, but I had serious doubts.

Manouvering my way through the store, grabbing the items on my list, I am feeling pretty good.  Sweaty, but good. 

As I hit the cracker aisle, I am starting to feel a little light headed.  And sweaty, very sweaty.  Even the crackers are starting to annoy me.  In my mucous induced pity party, I am starting to think I should just leave the cart and go home.

When all of a sudden, I hear some asshole in the next aisle whistling “Lady Antebellum”.  It really started to get to me.  I don’t know about you, but when I am sick, noise seems amplified.  This whistling shit head was one chorus away from having a bag of goldfish crackers jammed down his throat.  Thankfully, he stopped…maybe another shopper got to him before I did.  Regardless, I tossed my crackers into the cart and headed to the granola bars.

I get to the aisle I am looking for and there is some bitch with her cart parked in the middle of the aisle so no one can get through.  If that isn’t bad enough, she’s lecturing her husband on his need for more fibre because and I quote “I am sick and tired of listening to you grunt and groan in there because you refuse to eat a little fibre!”  And I am the single one…makes no sense to me at all.

My last stop at the store, haven’t seen anyone I know, thankfully, and I can actually hear my couch calling my name.  As I am standing there, staring at the granola bars in a ibuprofen induced cold coma, sweating, hoping my puffy coat covers my drooping boobs, I hear someone call my name.

No, not hallucinating…it’s not my couch.  Shit…do I casually walk away, pretending I didn’t hear?  Too late…the dreaded tap on the shoulder. 

I turn around and come face to face with a guy from highschool that had a “thing” for me.  Great…just great.

As I am turning around, he’s saying “It’s so great to see…” his voice trails off.  Then I hear a weak little “you.”

I mumble something about being sick, not wanting to stand too close so I don’t spread any germs and something about the price of granola bars. 

He then goes on to say “Wow, you look great…a little warm, but great.”

What was your first clue genius…the sweat mustache I am currently wearing or the fact that the collar of my coat is drenched. 

We make conversation short and I head for the checkout as fast as I can.  The checkout girl is perky and annoyingly chatty.  I start coughing just so I don’t have to talk to her.

As I leave the store it’s windy and raining.  I immediately unzip my puffy down jacket and let the cold air dry the back of my neck. 

I load up the car, roll the window down, stick my head out a la Ace Venture style and let the rain wash away the snot currently running out of my nose. 

I am such a catch J

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