I don’t know if they suck more than winter colds (both are miserable) but they always feel as if they are more destructive of getting things done. I don’t (quite) get the, “it’s just a cold”. They knock me on my ass. They do it in way which is worse than the flu; when one gets the flu, one knows one is sick. Flat out, wiped out, no sense that one ought to be able to get anything done.
Not so with a cold. It’s a lower key sapping of energy. Yesterday was crappy. I had no appetite, ached in minor ways, and had a headache to beat the band (from my sinuses rebelling). I also had things which needed doing, because on Tues. I’d managed to bugger up a pair of errands. So a pot needed to be replaced, and the correct guitar strings gotten.
That was it, done for the day. Planting peppers… Nope. repotting the etrog? Nope. Eating? Nope (I think that’s where, “starve a cold” comes from, making a benefit out of what happens when one has not the energy to make toast). I got back and went to bed (no, I lie, I did manage to get on one make on the present yarn project; about 10 grams of cranberry corriedale for a 2×2 cranberry/silver grey cable; spun s/z/s, so as to be good for knitting: if I don’t have the sticktoitiveness required, it will be a 2-ply crochet yarn). Reading, playing clicky games on my phone, soaking a really hot tub and napping away from 1400 yesterday to 1000 this morning was all I could manage.
Today I got coffee, and released some praying mantises (I bought the last pair of egg-cases from my local garden supply on Tues). Nuked some Campbell’s (comfort food: now made for “peel/pop/eat”) and flopped on the couch. I’m done in.
It’s that sense of done in, when there are things I want to be doing outside (which is less a thing in the winter) which seems to make the summer cold more onerous.