An Open Letter to My Mysterious Cold

To Whom it May Concern,

I am currently experiencing a mysterious cold. You, Señor Cold, are terrible. I didn’t ask for you. I don’t even know where you came from. I guess what I’m trying to say is why don't you just make like a tree and leave? You are an uninvited tresspassor inside my nose. This is your official notice to get out!

I bet you get your jollies from making nice guys like me as sick as you can. Do you think it’s funny? Hilarious, I can assure you. Not.

You, my mysterious cold, are the solitary reason for this down economy. If people were healthy enough to get into their respective work places and produce their various goods, we wouldn’t be in this situation. After all, as the ancient Chinese proverb says, “You sell more things, you make more money!”

It wouldn’t be so bad if I could sleep at night. But I bet that’s your favorite part huh? I can’t even lie down, or else I can’t breathe! Ah, I could just kill you right now, you know? And what’s up with the sudden temperature changes? One second I’m hot, then I’m freezing, then I’m hot again. You son of a gun.

I hate you, everyone hates you. We met, we voted and we all agree that you should go take a long walk off a short pier.  In short, stay out of my life.

Cordially,

Gordo

PS You owe me $12 for all those tissues