It almost never fails, when I return to Illinois, I get sick. I think it is an inevitability. If you ever get the chance read 'Survival of the Sickest'. Darwin would dig me because I am that guy.
It of course has to do with microbes. Very much like the settlers coming to the New World, I am a carrier, but unfortunately I am also an incubator. I show up, in my weakened traveler state from abroad and the little buggies that everyone else, the hundreds that I visit on vacay, have already dealt with find a new home in me. There they grow and prosper, its warm and humid, they feast unabated until blam, I'm sick. then of course, I must continue to visit, sore runny nose and tired aching self until all around me are afflicted as well. I'm surprised others don't head for the hills when I show up. Mom, little brother and Chad and whoever else I made ill, I apologize, but remember 'what doesn't kill you, sure is annoying anyway'.
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