Yesterday evening, John dragged me out of the house to Heather and Bob’s for supper. I wasn’t particularly hungry, couldn’t taste anything (which was a real shame) and was miserably sick, but getting out was probably good for me on some level. Having been cooped up all day hacking up lungs, getting out and seeing a world beyond my four walls reaffirmed that, when I felt well, there would be a world waiting for me. Besides, my virulent misery had originated in their abode, so I was merely returning it. Or something like that.

The visit also provided comic relief (a double-edged sword when you’re sick – laughing spawns chest spasms). When I have a head cold, I basically go 60% deaf. This means that I either hear what you said 60% of the time or hear 60% of what you say all the time, depending on circumstances. In this case, I was mentally fading in and out of reality enough that the latter applied; I grabbed sentences from mid-air without knowledge of their provenance.

Which is why, when in the course of conversation, Bob said, “Just spread your legs and trust the rubber,” I damn near blew coffee out my nose. (That really hurts when you’re stogged up, by the way.)

I found out this evening, when John was filling in my lapses of context, that it’s a rock climbing phrase particular to “chimneying”. This apparently involves climbing up the inside of a crevice with one foot on either rock face and relying on your shoes’ traction for survival.

Um, okay. Not quite the mental image I had. In fact, my mental image is now weirder, knowing about the climbing context. I’m sure the Sudafed isn’t helping.
Hey Bob, hope your “protection” holds….