*sniff sniff*

I’ve been home all day today with a miserable head-cold. No, the irony of having a cold when the weather is so very hot has not escaped me, but irony alone cannot save me from the sneezing, the runny nose, the blocked sinuses and the feelings of general malaise. I don’t need irony. I need a another box of tissues.

I also need some chicken soup. That thought occurred to me this morning as I wandered aimlessly about the empty house, wondering where everybody was even though I knew they had all gone to work. I meandered into the kitchen and tried to think through what it would take to make chicken soup. Chicken stock? None in the house. Chicken cubes would have to do. Noodles? No, only macaroni. I dumped that in too. Parsely? None available. I crushed a handful of dill into the pot instead and threw some garlic in for good measure. Garlic is supposed to be good for you when you’re sick. Or is that ginger? I wasn’t sure.

I let the pot boil for a while. Then I got bored and put my head down on the dining table. When I woke up a bit later my soup had turned into a pile of slimy, yellowish macaroni that smelled faintly of garlic but mostly of chicken cubes. It was also spicy. Apparently I had thrown in some paprika while I wasn’t looking.

I took my yellow slime down to the basement and brought along half a liter of Amrat Cola as an incentive to eat it. As irony would have it (“less irony, more tissues” –The Nose) I finished half a liter of pop before making myself finish my slimy macaroni. It’s not that I was eating slowly, it’s just that I was trying to rearrange my noodles into a tastier position since their current one was sort of bland. I piled them one on top of another and decorated them with salt. I knocked the pile down and stirred it around some more. I invented mashed macaroni. I drank more cola.

The rest of my day has passed somewhat similarly to my morning. I’ve sat around, I’ve napped, I’ve used up all the tissues in the house and I’ve moved on to the toilet paper. I’ve also created a new layout for my blog, but all the germs in my head have addled my brains and I can’t figure out how to make my columns line up without any seams. Helpful and benevolent people with helpful and benevolent suggestions may leave them here. Help!

I haven’t been wholly useless today though. I did manage to pulverize my father and sister in a game of Scrabble. I decided beforehand that if they beat me it would be because I was sick. Since I won, it’s because I can beat them even when I’m sick. Booya. I could beat them with both of my sinuses tied behind my back, which they might as well be for all the good they’re doing me. Whatever it is that sinuses are supposed to be doing, I’m pretty sure they’re not doing it.

And I wrote a blog. So there it is folks. I’m going back to bed and if this blog stinks it’s because I’m sick and if it’s great then that means I can blog even if I’m sick. Booya.


Abez is a 50% white, 50% Pakistani, and 100% Muslim. She is also chronically ill and terminally awesome. She is the ever-lovin Momma of: - Khalid, a special little boy with autism - Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair -Musfira, an especially devious baby Spoiler, Abez is also Zeba Khan on Muslimmatters.org.

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