Dear Cold,

It’s been three weeks now that we’ve been acquainted. You infiltrating my nose, sinuses, and lungs like you were invited. Me chugging Mucinex like a drunk on a bender trying to rid myself of your presence but you persist. I particularly relish the way you retreat a little bit and lull me into a false sense of wellness only to come back with a vengeance.

At the first tinge of you I started those expensive little lies that you take to “stop a cold before they start.” After $50 at my local CVS you still required antibiotics. I’ve been sidelined from life and absolutely exhausted and you even decided to send your little minions to my sweet, unsuspecting husband. Now we cuddle together fighting the good fight against you but in reality we are just volleying you back and forth.

We are done. We are ready to live again. We are ready to go back to our happy and vivacious selves… so you have to go.

Consider this your pink slip.

Through stuffed nostrils and blocked chest,




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