H is for Head Cold.

Last night, as I journeyed through a dreamland of 100% off sales racks, fanciful unicorns and naked bus boys, the head cold that has been teasing its way into my body these past few days crept its way up into my head and fully implanted itself into my brain. So this morning I awoke to a very unpleasant new development that now seems to leave a trail of germs in its wake wherever I go.

As a result, I was almost 20 minutes late to work-if that.

Struggling under the weight of my brown paper lunch sack I made my way towards the building, desperately trying not to pass out from the granola bar I had eaten in the car. While I can't be sure how I appeared to those inside the building, I can only imagine it was like something out of Day of the Dead. Finally I made it into air-conditioning, but wouldn't you know, just as I was walking in I bumped into one of the company's higher-ups who was keen to hear all about my recent business trip. (And I thought getting from the car into the building was to be the day's biggest challenge.)

Quickly I tried to weed through the spider webs in my cloudy cold-covered brain and come up with an intelligent and cohesive recap of the trip. I wanted to make sure I included insightful reflections on why it had been such an incredibly invaluable experience while at the same time expressing my extreme gratitude for being allowed to go. Indeed, this was my chance to impress her with my apt skills in communication and to flex my expansive vocabulary, and my skillful ability to really think on my toes......

"It was good" I squeaked out, silently cursing my ailment and the ever-growing headache it had become.

So now I am slumped in my desk chair, trying to keep down a peach yogurt and desperately reminiscing about the good old days, when people in this office just ignored me.