ailin'

You ever notice that when you're sick--even slightly--all you can think of is your ailment? If I stop and think about it, yes my nose is blocked and sore and my eyes and throat are scratchy, and I've got some pressure in my ears and head, but I'm really not doing so badly. I'm not in unbearable pain, I'm not broken, and I'm not spewing surprising fluids left and right. I'm not even nauseated--though the world does get a bit wobbly when I stand up on account of the aforementioned ear pressure. That said, I can hardly go two minutes without some sort of "oh woe is me, life is so hard" related thought squeezing into my clogged brain. I think this is probably somehow linked to my unconscious brain's current work to clear this mild head cold out--the worker-brain's impulses to send white blood cells and reroute stored energy to the sinus battlefield are leaking into the area of thought that the brain I call I can hear. I'm interpreting the "send men and munitions!" call to mean "oh god, we're all gonna die." My conscious brain is my own in-head Yossarian.