When a cough is not a cold
Channel the stress. That’s my way of handling this very important week in the world of AI9. The countdown to the final 24 is too big to be left to the competitors. Next time around, I’ll help with the Olympics.
It’s only a musical variety show. It’s too mainstream. The program exists to sell pop and iTunes. Sure, all of the statements are true, but as I’ve watched the tears of joy/sorrow/anger while the judges change the live-direction of these young musicians, I like it that AI9 is here. At this point, I’m not sure we’ll be celebrating any tenth anniversary.
I’m starting this new season without any clear favourite; we’re back to letting the music carry the load.
In my world, I’m doing battle with the mighty chest cold monster, refusing to accept an early diagnosis of bronchitis. Did you know that with the right combination of “pumps” and OTC syrup, I’ve been able to sleep almost three hours in a row. And at work, although others in the henhouse have been wondering if I’m in distress, the explanation that someone is tickling my throat (for hours each day) is accepted, so far. With no other symptoms, I feel unready to face the waiting room at my local clinic. After all, there are sick people out there.
Besides, I’ve been vaccinated for the serious stuff, and I refuse to get close to anyone other than the dog (do dogs catch people cough?) If I hang tough, the old immune system will win this skirmish. I’ll keep you posted.
