I am officially down with the WORST cold, and I have no idea which lovely human gifted it to me—but I would like a word. 
Currently, I’m a miserable, sniffling mess, feeling so sorry for myself that I’ve practically turned into a living, breathing cold symptom. I’m alternating between blowing my nose and wondering if I need to write a will. 
So, if you need me, I’ll be buried under a mountain of tissues, wrapped up in a blanket cocoon, glaring at the world for carrying on as normal while I’m out here suffering like a dramatic 19th-century novel character. 
Anyone else feeling sorry for themselves today? Please send tea, sympathy, and possibly a new immune system.