SIC
It’s 7:01 pm and I’ve got exactly 2 hours to knock down this smug bug affixed on my larynx. I’ve armed myself with all the essentials: a bottle of throat antiseptic (which I spent a great deal of time standing around at the drugstore counter for, only to be told it was right there at the grocery section, beside the different colored skittles and the different flavoured condoms), a bottle of 500 mg Ascorbic Acid, the generic kind, in the very bottle our mother used to buy---perhaps drug people didn’t take much to changing logo designs, lest the poor sick be confused (I only now noticed the precaution helpfully printed near the bottle’s bottom: Large doses may cause diarrhea. I wonder how, exactly, they found this out. Did one desperate human chug down the entire contents of a Vitamin C bottle, hoping to at last bid adieu to this world’s injustices, and instead, mortifyingly, found hisself down the corridor in their depressingly too-bright toilet, purging an entire week of victuals instead?)
I’ve got my dosage of Bioflu ---the doctor said I must catch the throat bug unawares with paracetamol, and this entire lot of ammo is laid down before me and I’m taking them one at a time, making sure a prayer to the god of disease and despair is whispered reverently, with each gulp, swish and gargle.
“We can beat this yet!” I am seeing the physician pump her own healthy fist in the air before me, and I am bolstered on. On, despite the wan woozy queasy chorus piping in my innards.
Bunny said she’ll be here in an hour, then we hie off to Marianne and Audrey’s housewarming on ABC street. Now you know fun stuff are bound to happen on streets officially registered as ABC. You might expect goings-on darker and more sinister on streets called XYZ and entirely dreary affairs on DEF, and perhaps things of automotive nature on TUV, but ABC? Fun fun stuff. I can almost imagine the cast of Sesame Street and Uncle Bob’s coming round for a drink. Then we can spend the rest of the night to dawn riding Barkley and peering down Oscar’s can to see if he has feet or his entirety is made up of his head, arms and upper chest.
Huggghh damn this cold.
Do you want to run with my pack
Do you want to ride on my back?
You’re on my mind again, you.
An entirely different bug drug you are.
