As I was watching New Girl this past Tuesday, and witnessed what was both a sweet yet disconcerting act by both Nick and Kai as they swaddle-attacked Schmidt and lulled him into the most comfortable looking light coma, I realized something. I was sniffling on my own couch, not-so-quietly beckoning for someone to bring me tea with not two, but one and a half splendas and a dash of almond milk, because I’ve got a slight head cold. Except the difference between Schmidt and I was that there was no one around willing to swaddle-attack me into a cozy, much needed slumber or heed my requests. And yes, Schmidt can be a douche, hence the jar, but you know what? Isn’t everyone a bit of a douche when they’re sick?
As I thought more about it, and whined a little, and whimpered, and finally got up to get myself a tissue and a hot drink, I realized that like Schmidt, when we’re ill, we’re reduced to the our most primal selves. The parts of us that are pure want and need rather than thought or contemplation. We want what we want when we want it, and damn it, we’re going to get it. Or, we’re going to annoy the hell out of you until you get it for us. If you're still not entirely convinced, here's some definitive proof that we all turn into Schmidts when we're sick:
You Wake With the First Signs of a Slight, Post-Nasal Drip
And suddenly, breathing becomes a conscious effort.
And Then You Try to Take a Sip of Water
To find out that your throat has been transplanted with a coarse volcano of hot, steaming lava.
So, You Take Your Temperature
And yep, you have a fever. Surely, your innards are rotting.
When You Realize Your Cousin's Baby Got You Sick
And you want absolutely nothing to do with those mouth breathing monsters of death.
So, You Obviously Have to Cancel Your Date
But sending a text of sincerity isn't an exact science.
And He Doesn't Answer You
Definitely not because it's last minute and you canceled on him on Wednesday, too. Def not that.
So You Make New Plans, Which Involves Your Slips and Your Jam Jams
Which is the perfect opportunity to show off your flare for sleepwear.
You're Emotionally Sensitive and You Take Offense to Arbitrary Things
Like people washing their hands, or covering their mouths when they cough, or breathing without wheezing.
And You're All Stuffed Up So You Can't Even Hear Anything Correctly
It's probably not safe to do that right now, tbh.
And Parts of Your Body Hurt That You're Pretty Sure You Don't Even Have
*Howls at the moon*
Optimistically, It's Fantastic Being Able to Stay Home From Work
Until you're sitting alone at your six person dining room table, slowly sipping a cup of tea like Rose when she gets rescued from the wreckage of the Titanic.
You Can't Get Comfortable in Bed, So You Try Out a Few Different Positions
Side? Wrong. Back? Nuh-uh. Stomach? Not feasible.
Laying on the floor with one leg at a 90 degree angle and your forearm draped over your eyes? Just right.
And When You Do Get All Settled In, You Need a Tissue
This is how you die. Drowning in a puddle of your own mucus.
Life Begins to Lose Its Meaning
How many Spidermans can they make? I mean, REALLY?
Until Your Friends Visits with Chicken Soup, Because They Missed You
It's hard to understand how anyone could like you right now. Even your mother has stopped returning your calls.
So, Naturally, You Take Advantage
There are so many things you couldn't do solo but now, ANYTHING is possible.
Truly, No Good Deed Goes Unpunished, Because They Get Sick Too
And you become an inner circle health hazard. A modern day Typhoid Mary. A pariah.
And You're Not So Good With Confrontation
When said friends come after you, torches and pitchforks handy.
But Being a Hypochondriac, You ARE Good at Disinfecting
Real good. Real frickin' good. And you're finally feeling a bit better, so sayonara, illness. Try again next time.
Images: FOX; Giphy (19)