When I’m sick, I don’t want to be a nomad. Seems obvious, right? When phlegm dances down my chin, when my ears snap crackle pop Rice Krispie, and when my nose is stuffed beyond belief, snapchatting photos of the Eiffel Tower is the last thing I want to do. The point is, when I’m sick, all I want to do is curl up in a ball and read…assuming the complimentary chicken noodle soup will be provided. Otherwise, I don’t want to be sick.