I serenaded a friend this afternoon for her birthday. It was a bit of a dare.
You see, you can't really sing when you have laryngitis. She thought it was scary. And hilarious.
Currently, I'm sounding like Darth Vader's kid sister. I truly sound awful, but the stupid thing is I don't feel too bad. Sure, I'm not 100%, but I'm also up to do a day in the office.
Making things a little worse, I'm up in Darwin on a work trip and there's a music festival to go to on Saturday, which, if I'm honest, at present, I have no desire to go to - but that's three days away.
On the good side of things, I'm not coughing, spluttering, blowing my nose, feverish. Even my throat, which is a little sore, is not really giving me grief. And sure, I'm not feeling one hundred percent, but I can think and write and get on with things. But as I'm travelling and have another two flights to get me home on Sunday, I thought it best to see a doctor and see what they thought.
"You've lost your voice," said the doctor.
"No shit, Sherlock," I thought, "Minister for the Bleeding Obvious, this one."
Five minutes later I walked out with a prescription for antibiotics, more out of prevention, possibly for a cure.
It's fun, this having no voice.
I got to use hand gestures in a meeting today.
I'm scaring people.
And worst of all, I can't swim at the moment. I was looking forward to going to the Parap pool after work and doing some laps. The thought of getting wet, getting dry, and then going in and out of air conditioning did not sit well. Hopefully the drugs will kick in and I'll be able to go for a swim on the weekend.
And Darwin is about to kick off with this festival over the weekend.
I'm just glad it's not COVID. Or RSV. Or something worse.
And if all goes to seed, I could go work for one of those phone sex lines.
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