father, will my illness pass

To the walking germ that has infected me with an unshakable cough: thank you. It‘s been two weeks and my dry throat made my cough morph into dinosaur screeches;  I can‘t sleep and tomorrow is Monday. „Screech“ happens to be a noun I used in my new addition to the last week‘s „mental retardation“ post. I hate pharmacists. You go and ask them for one thing, they pretend to listen, and hand you whatever pharmaceutical company paid to recommend. I just wanted pastilles to suck on, not useless tablets that dissolve on my tongue. I don‘t hate them, „hate“ is such a strong word. Does she make me question the dangers of the Great Replacement; a phrase I made up right now on my couch (it‘s Sunday and almost midnight and I can‘t sleep because I cough uncontrollably every 30 seconds) which is very much about the „mental retardation“ post I extended this week. You might be wondering why I bother you with so much text, who reads anything nowadays, that is why you should read my latest blog post! It‘s how we will all end up mentally retarded if we lean more into AI and computers and phones and apps. Using „if“ isn‘t really correct, it‘s more of a „when“.  I miss the days where I could just sleep without coughing, it‘s been ages (2 weeks). I fell right into the trap of ungratefulness; I would have never considered not-caughing as something to be thankful about. And here I am. Boredom, boredom, boredom. Random fact about me: When I was seventeen years old, I commuted 45 minutes by bus every day in winter to observe deers outdoors in a nearby forrest. Binoculars around my neck, leather gloves, and hiking boots – just before the sun would set and the wild animals would find a place to rest and sleep. My approach to deer-watching was rather unconventional. Instead of laying on the ground and not moving, I would climb up a tree and wait until they passed below me. Once I even managed to jump on one of them and ride it for some seconds. Yes, I did make up this whole story. Imagine how pitiful I am feeling wanting to waste your time reading this text. I am considering to do something very radical with my blog, which is to write every single day and post it for about a month or two, because my ideas have been fun so far and there isn‘t really anything stopping me from doing it. Another lie, I barely have time to post once a week, and quality-wise? It is safe to say that my vocabulary is tiny and my imagination limited. What is it with Sundays that I end up going to sleep so late. Do I dread work this much? It‘s my cough, I know.. A thirty-second interval reminder to stay uncomfortable and miserable, especially throughout the night. Sleep – who needs it nowadays? What would I do for a BigMac now, damn. Or a ChilliCheese. You know what, I will grab breakfast from McDonalds tomorrow. I deserved it. Several McToasts, a McMuffin, and an Iced Tea. Sounds like a plan.