After being afflicted, for the better part of 10 days (yes, you read right, count it and weep... On my behalf, because that is how truly ineffective my immune system is) with a cough, cold and fever, which manifested itself in the form of neverending phlegm (in my nose AND my throat! In various colours and consistencies! My blog doesn't know the MEANING of TMI!) I have finally, thankfully recovered (somewhat. Enough, anyway).
I hate being sick. Schlepping about the apartment in my jammies and not being at work was fun for about three hours until I went through an entire box of tissues in those three hours, trying to expel all the phlegm from my various (facial, I should clarify) orifices (orifii?). It blows (pun intended) not being able to taste food and, my personal pet peeve, being told not to do this or that "because you're sick!" (Goosey is a prime offender of this. He also called me a masochist because I wanted to have fun and have a life despite being sick. I'm not a masochist! I'm a champion man), because I hateeee not being able to do things and then having those restrictions pointed out to me (I haz authority issues).
Goosey Offender trying not to look offensive
So this past week has rendered me somewhat of a soup expert: oxtail, mushroom, a unique (euphemism) version of chicken soup from the mamak downstairs, but I have to say the winner, hands down, was the spicy beef macaroni soup from Fat Spoon. So spicy it both cleared out my nose, and was able to evoke a reaction from my sick, deadened taste buds. YUM. The picture does not do it justice, for it just looks like a bowl of tabasco sauce (also spicy but not as yummy).
I also had cucur udang. I could not taste a thing, of course, but I still ate all of it. What did I tell you? CHAMPION.
