Hanging Up

Hanging Up

I just got a recorded phone message from my local member of Provincial Parliament who obviously doesn't know I have a cold and don't want to be bothered. Naturally, I hung up, which is what I always do when I receive auto-dialled calls - even when I've had more than four hours sleep and am not shuffling around in a fog, wheezing, sniffling and feeling generally haggard.

Don't worry, the hang up in no way indicates my political disposition; I'm still voting red in the upcoming Ontario election. I do think this cold, in combination with lack of sleep has temporarily bumped me down several IQ points, though. I haven't been able to concentrate on anything for days and haven't read anything more complicated than the TV guide since before the weekend. Last night the only TV show able to hold my interest was To Serve and Protect (Canada's version of Cops). I also called several people up (in a burst of pseudoephedrine inspired restlessness) but was ultimately unable to maintain enough cognitive function to hold a conversation for longer than a few minutes.

More signs I'm not well: 1) Kermit the frog's run in with rampaging teddy bears (which, granted, is always going to be a painful sight to behold) hit me especially hard. I mean, does he have to look quite so anguished at his fate? 2) My veins, which usually vanish into thin air upon the threat of bloodwork, stayed sluggishly put yesterday as I stretched out my arm for the lab nurse. 3) I don't feel the slightest bit compelled to get out there and enjoy our continuing good luck in the weather department. 4) I couldn't make it through to the end of David Suzuki's talk at Word on The Street on Sunday. Fascinating though he was, lightheadedness took hold after forty-five minutes of standing in the crowd. 5) I'm not in the humour to write this but don't want to do anything else. Colour me out of sorts.
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