If there was ever an actual war between the genders, all the women would have to do is give men the flu. Sure, the women would get sick, too, but they’d still plan and orchestrate a battle plan, attack without mercy, and win the war. Men would whine and cry about being sick and just go to bed early because they can’t handle having a stuffy nose and a mild fever.
I rarely get sick – maybe once every two years I’ll get a cold and I haven’t had a stomach bug in at least six to eight years. I’m blessed with a ridiculously strong constitution and a high pain threshold, but when I get sick, it knocks me on my ass. I woke up Wednesday with a headache, runny nose, sore throat, and irritated eyes, and you’d think that I lost a limb from the way that I was bitching and moaning. And the fact that I had to take care of myself and get myself drugs and medicine? Oh, you’d think that I had just been beaten and left for dead and had to crawl to the hospital.
Why do men deal with illness so much worse than women? Is it because women are better at endurance and handling pain? Are men used to things being easier? Or is it because men try to postpone their illness and pretend like it doesn’t matter until it’s almost incapacitating and women start treating it earlier?
All I know is that at 10:30 tonight, I’ll be performing at the Orlando Improv thanks to that super awesome Sudafed shit that you can only get behind the counter, probably mixed with 5-hour energy shots and maybe an Adderall and a martini. If I didn’t have a performance scheduled, you can bet that I’d be at home, in bed, wishing that my mom was here to make me soup and take my temperature.
If you want to come see me, where I will probably have a meltdown and my head may explode on stage due to the combination of pharmaceuticals running through my bloodstream, call the Improv at 407-480-5233 and give them my name. Show starts at 10:30. Avitaplosion will probably begin right at 10:45.