The old lady syndrome
I’ve always wondered what’s the driving force behind old ladies always talking about their ever-degrading health. I mean, I understand you’re about a thousand years old and you’re system is going through an inevitable shut-down (slow and painful), but why would the rest of the world care? Sorry, but who cares if your joints ache.. unless you’re my very own nan. But you know Abigail to Fearne, at a pub, drinking their half pint of shandy and going on about their kidney stones and arthritis…
However, today shed a new light on that “old lady moan” phenomenon. It just so happened that my right ear decided it’s a good time to hurt and thus ruin my day. In the afternoon sniffles joined the earache crew and my overall will to live was slowly but surely degrading. I found little help from painkillers, as they don’t work for earaches, weirdly. What did help me the slightest was complaining about my shitty state of existence to my colleague Erin. I feel sorry for her for sitting across the desk from me, because she’s the most convenient target for my old lady rants. I have to admit, no actual pain management was truly achieved, but perhaps it’s the fact that when you bore other people with your problems, they have to listen to it (which can be annoying) and then they’re eventually in pain because someone just won’t shut the fuck up about their problems. And knowing that someone else is suffering always makes people feel better about themselves. This isn’t my theory, blame Darwin. Or then the second option is that the talking could just make you feel like you’re getting it out of yourself, or whatever, but that’s less likely in my book anyway.
So yeah. My ear hurts, my nose is semi-blocked, my throat is swelling up more and getting more sore by the minute and it seems I’m going to have to wear earmuffs for a couple of weeks. That includes in bed. Luckily I’ve got the cutest earmuffs ever.