Got me a cold.

Grazie, mamma. As if the gift of life wasn't enough, you bestowed upon me your gift of the common cold. The coughing, the runny nose, the raspy voice that makes the other person on the phone think they're talking to some demon from the underworld.

I wouldn't mind getting a cold if I were one of those people who like to take time off whenever they can get it and use up all their vacation days, personal days, AND sick days by March. I am not one of those people, however.

I will come to work sick as a dog. Heck, they'd find me here even if I was on a gurney! Okay, that's a lie. I've been on a gurney and didn't go to work. Still, I find it so hard to take time off, since I don't really have a back-up, and there's just so much to do.

Now I don't get sick all that often. I owe this to my not being an obsessive germaphobe. I think it's okay to eat stuff off the floor once in a while (okay, not really), get a cold, get your body immune to that virus, and never get it again. Some people practically drink that hand sanitizer stuff, but I hate using it.

Most of the time I don't even take medicine when I get a cold. I just ride that puppy out. That's probably the only thing you can do. Cough and cold medicines don't really do anything anyway. I just strap a box of tissues to my hip and plod ahead.

Do you think my co-workers would take offense if I shoved some tissue up my nose and left it there for the rest of the day?