Close-up of a woman wearing a knit beanie and holding a scarf over her nose and mouth. Text reads "I'm never sick...until I am."

I’m never sick… until I am.

Getting sick is pretty rare for me, something I chalk up to a rigorous hand washing/sanitising routine and plenty of good fortune.

But recently, I caught a cold. I assume that’s what it was. I had no fever or aches typically associated with the flu. I also tested myself for COVID every day for a week, and all the RATs were negative.

Okay, so no big deal. Normally, when I get a cold, it’s 1-2 days of a sore throat, another 2-3 days of congestion/coughing/sneezing, and all symptoms gone by day 6 or 7.

This one though? Well, most of my symptoms were gone by the one-week mark, and I never felt terribly unwell. But I had a chesty cough that I just could. not. shake.

It’s been more than three weeks now, and the cough seems to have finally cleared up – but it rears its head when I expose myself to the chilly winter morning air, or when I’m trying to recover my singing voice. (If you’re in the northern hemisphere or whatever, June/July/August is winter in Australia.)

My speaking voice still occasionally dips into raspy supervillain territory. *clears throat*

And I can’t hit any high notes (as in, I open my mouth to sing and literally no sound comes out).

Three weeks, man. What is this outrage? 😦

Anyway, that was an awful lot of words to say I’m just being a sulky little biatch, lol. I actually prefer winter to summer – I love my hoodies and chunky, slouchy beanies – but communicable diseases suck.


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