I think I've died. Last night as I was leaving Avenue Q I knew my cold had finally caught up to me. I now can't breathe at all, I ache, my head hurts, the cold pills are doing little. I called my airline as I have a $150 ticket to see "The Book of Mormon" tonight but can't go to a crowded theatre with my cough and nose and the feeling of death. They said $400 to fly back today, $300 to fly back tomorrow. So I said I'd wait. I suppose I could change my mind later but if I'm just going to lie in bed and feel bad, I suppose it's not worth spending $400 to do it at home, although it would be nice.
Day five I got up and went to the Tenement Museum.