ricolaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Okay, so it turns out, it wasn't allergies. Well, it's partly allergies but dude, I have been sidelined with the nastiest chest cold the past few days. I have one of those coughs that lifts me out of my seat whenever I'm seized with a fit. My eyes tear up and even my abs get a workout. It's wonderful. Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I started coughing like a fiend and my throat got sooooooooooooooooo dry. Ever cough so bad you start to choke? Well, that was me. So I got out of bed, drank a glass of water and sat on my couch watching an episode of Roseanne on Nick at Nite while sucking on a Ricola. It was one of the early episodes where Dan had a head of curls more lustrous and springy than mine.

I went back to work today but as I sit here congested up to my eyeballs, coughing my brains out and again, sucking on a Ricola, I'm thinking it was a bad idea. I've become the annoying noisy cubicle mate now. Hey, it could be worse... I could be farting up a storm. I'm pleased to report that I'm not. Even if I was, I certainly wouldn't tell YOU. Oh, the shame. I'm from the same school of thought as the mother of my childhood friend, Arnold: "Girls don't fart, they squeak."

Um, okay... random tangent alert: I was just offered a job. I literally just got off the phone. I'm being poached from within. Wow. I was having a crappy week. Things just took an upturn. Gotta go!