Heather R. Breaux BLOG

Heather R. Breaux
October 04, 2007 at 7:39 am  | Mobile Reader | Pring this storyPrint 

What do you call a standard 4-gallon black trash can filled to the brim with - well ... uh ... overflowing with balled-up and sneezed-on tissues, already microwaved Campbell’s Soup-At-Hand containers and three empty boxes of Puffs Ultra facial tissue?

Well, for starters you can call it the in-office monument that marks the spot of the sickest person in the newsroom like a big germy “X.” And it sits next to my desk.

Now, I’m going to have to ask that you, my readers, pinch your nose with your index finger and thumb and read this week’s column aloud, coughing every three or four words.

What? You don’t want to do it? Fine, I just thought that it would help to set the mood.

Anyway, I’ve come down with an icky-big cold and I am exhibiting every identifiable symptom known to mankind.

I have itchy, watery, red and swollen eyes along with an itchy, runny, red and swollen nose.

I’m coughing, wheezing, sneezing and my body aches.

My throat is sore and my ears feel clogged.

I can remember when I was a kid pretending to be sick so I could stay home from school. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have those youthful days back.

Between my home life and my career, I just don’t have time to be sick.

There’s always some special section or new story idea that needs attention at the office and there’s dusting and mopping and laundry and other cleaning that needs to be done at home.

And if I’m not feeling well, then that means that I’m probably not checking my voicemail or returning my calls - instead I’m staring at the dirty mountain of laundry in front of me, sucking on a cough drop.

For example, I came home early this week - on deadline - to take a nap and rest my sick head and decided to reserve time in the evening to write my column and do any final edits.

Well, let’s just say that this is the first handwritten column that I’ve worked on in a very long time.

Yes, it’s true. I’m writing to you from my queen-size pillow-top mattress scribbling my thoughts down onto an 8 1/2” x 14” yellow legal notepad by way of a blue ballpoint pen.

Trust me, I tried to position myself infront of my home computer, but my head kept involuntarily nodding off to the left and I think that I even dozed off a few times.

In the morning, I’ll be in a race against time trying to make out my scribble-scratch handwriting and type up my column, but at least I was able to get some rest.

I just hope that the adrenaline rush of my morning deadline doesn’t kill me, I’m still feeling weak and I really don’t think that I can take anything else.

Tonight I’ll pray and hope that I’ll be able to make it through tomorrow without drooling on my desk or coughing up a lung - hey, anything is possible.

Questions? Comments? Story ideas? Email Lifestyles Editor Heather R. Breaux at heatherb@heraldguide.com.

View other articles written Heather R. Breaux

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