My dear friends, today I have the honour of announcing to the world my latest achievement — the autumn cold! Yes, that magical time when men all over the globe can finally feel like the main characters in a medical drama.

All it takes is a temperature rise of half a degree, and I’m already lying there like a patient in intensive care. Runny nose? My new hobby. Cough? Sounds like trying to start an old diesel in the middle of a Siberian winter. And complaining? From the temperature of my tea to the quality of tissues — everything deserves a critique!

But I’m not the true hero here. That title goes to my wife — a woman of stainless steel — who endures my moans, groans, and theatrics with the dignity of a saint. Though of course, I’m the one suffering the most, right? She deserves a medal — and not the chocolate kind.

Autumn, my friends, is not just leaves and pumpkins. It’s the time when a man can truly appreciate just how much his partner can put up with. Applause for all of them! And remember — it’s temporary, but the memories of this heroic battle against the sniffles will stay with us forever. Well, at least until spring.

And the garden? It can wait. I’m busy dying with dignity. And sipping tea with honey. And eating garlic bread. But mostly, dying.