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Meet the Columnist

Columnist, Sheila Moss, is humor writer from  Tennessee. She writes  a weekly human interest column about daily life and the funny things that happen to everyone.

   She has written for  the Daily News of Kingsport,   Griffin Journal, Oakridge Now, Atlanta Woman Magazine, Aberdeen Examiner, Angleton Advocate,  and Smyrna AM, a supplement of the Murfreesboro Daily News Journal. She has been published by Voyageur Press, McGraw Hill, and the good folks at Guidepost Books.  Her articles have appeared in numerous anthologies and other publications, both in print and online.

    She is a former board member and past  Editor of  the Columnists.com, website of  the National Society of Newspaper Columnists, the oldest and largest professional organization for columnists. She is the Web Editor of Southern
Humorists.com
  and  a founder of the Southern Humorists writers' organization. She is writer, editor, and webmaster of HumorColumnist.com

    To carry her weekly column in your newspaper, or to republish an article, please contact her. It's that easy. 

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Misery Love Company....
 


Misery Loves Company

I have a sore throat. I tried to deny it at first and hoped it would just go away. It didnít. I tried to doctor it myself with menthol cough drops and salt-water gargle. Finally, I had to admit that it was too serious for cough drops and I needed to go to the doctor for real medicine.

I donít know why I seem to be writing every year about colds and sore throats. It seems to be my destiny to get a good one about the time the seasons change. I hope this is my official cold of the Fall Season 2002. I really hate being sick.

Martyr that I am, I went into work anyhow. Canít let a little thing like a sore throat get me down, can I?

My daughter called later. "Can I speak to Sheila Moss?"

"Itís me," I squeaked.

"Oh, I didnít recognize you - you sound terrible!"

Good grief, my own daughter doesnít recognize my voice. It must be worse than I thought.

"You need to go home and get some rest," everyone told me. I know what they are really thinking: "You need to go home before you give that crud to us."

Wonder where I got it in the first place? I donít remember anything viral going around. Guess Iím the first victim of the season. My co-workers probably all think Iím loafing or slacking off. Later this year when they get the bug, however, they will understand.

Right after work, I went to the local convenience clinic to see the doc. He looked at my ears, and throat, and listened to my chest. I was a little worried when he asked if he could pray for me. However, there was no fever, so he didnít think I had strep throat, just a regular run of the mill upper respiratory and sinus infection. He wrote me a prescription for his favorite drug, guaranteed to zap any germ on the first try.

How long does it take these antibiotics to start working anyhow? My voice is getting raspier and raspier. I sound like a frog that's been smoking cigars and my nose is red from blowing it so much. I must have a mucus factory in my head.

I went home and tried to take everyoneís well-meaning advice to get some rest. There is only one good thing about illness. It is the perfect excuse to conserve energy and not do anything much. Obviously, I canít clean house because it might make me feel worse. Forget yard work, much too strenuous. Guess Iíll be forced to lie around and watch television. Whereís the remote control?

Why is it that when you want to rest the telephone wonít quit ringing? After the sixth call, I gave up trying to rest. "Hello", I manage to get out. I can hear a hesitance on the other end. My voice is so deep they are not sure whom they are talking to.

So, Iím just living from pill time to pill time. Surely sooner or later this medicine will start working.

The next day I decide to go to work in spite of feeling like yesterdayís Kleenex. Iíve already taken off one day this week. Guess Iíll just keep working and spreading my germs around. Maybe if I hold my breath on the elevator and stay in my cubical with my box of tissue nearby, it will help.

My co-workers avoid me. Chickens! Are they worried about a little cold? Iím starting to hear sneezes from other cubicles already. They need to take vitamins like I do. They canít expect me to take off every time I sneeze. Besides, donít they know that misery loves company?


Copyright 2002 Sheila Moss
 
 



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