Come on folks, I'm allowed a pity-party now and then.
- My teeth HURT - Yes, Libby, I've flossed. Yes, Libby. I've brushed my teeth - daily (See below) I'm guessing right about now that those of you who don't know Libby have determined she is an ever vigilant dental hygienist.
- My nose is so stuffed, I can't smell how bad I smell (and only realized this when the dogs wouldn't lie down by me). And exactly how can one's nose be stuffed up but still drip at the same time?
- My hair hurts
- Coughing threw my back out
- Did I mention my teeth hurt?
- I'm considering cough syrup a "juice" category
- I tell time by the medications I have to take
- I jump at the offer by a friend to grab dinner for me (and then I request Taco Bell (???))
- Walking to the bathroom is a planned event
- Really, 50 years, and this is the first time my teeth hurt
- A hand-drill to the middle of the forehead might reduce the pressure (still holding out on this one)
- Brushing teeth is an event requiring a new way to breath (nose stuffed)
- I didn't mind answering the phone for telemarketers - as long as I was in the middle of a coughing fit.
- I've morphed into my dad, I check my snot each time I blow my nose (OMG this is gross!)
- ......and finally..... I consider my gummy vitamin to be dessert!
I shall be calling the doctor again tomorrow morning. It's been a week since our last rendezvous.
In the meantime, from the annals of sympathetic wisdoms bestowed upon me from my dad's first wife:
"Suck It Up Sally"
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