Man flu

^{The elderly man, with a rough three-day stubble covering his weathered face, lay dramatically draped across his couch as if battling a terrible fate. His cheeks were flushed from fever, his nose red and sore from constant blowing. Every cough rattled through his chest like a storm, and each sniffle was accompanied by a deep, world-weary sigh. Wrapped in a thick blanket, surrounded by tissues, tea mugs, and half-empty medicine bottles, he stared at the ceiling with glassy eyes — the very image of a man heroically enduring the relentless assault of what he insisted was no mere cold, but a true and merciless „man flu.“}

Ich bin gerade ein bisschen angeschlagen. aber ich schlafe das weg. Morgen wieder Lohnschinderei.