For the past week and a half I’ve been tormented by this icky cold virus that forced me to take two days off from school (honestly, THAT was pretty nice) and commissioned me with an award-winning, tenacious hacking loogie-cough that is just starting to go away. In these many days and hours I spent in bed getting some much-needed zzzs (or trying to but just feeling deathly ill and restless instead) I noticed an odd but distantly familiar taste in my mouth. You see, what seems like many moons ago, there were some nights where I couldn’t sleep. Or woke up much earlier in the morning than I intended to. Or cried myself to sleep. Or woke up and cried. Basically I cried. A lot. And when you cry when you’re lying down, you get congested. When you get congested, your nose runs profusely, eventually turns to stuffiness, and it’s hard to breathe. The very sensory memory of what this used to feel, smell, and taste like on what was once a sadly regular basis evidently has not been forgotten by my olfactory and taste systems. Because being sick in bed with a cold tastes a lot like crying. They’re clearly different, but in both situations you don’t feel particularly well, and they both trigger a lot of the same symptoms, sensations, flavors. And then of course the mental associations attached to the sensory were not exactly fun. But it was mostly just weird. Yeah. Having a cold does taste very much like crying. Huh.