Shoot Me?

I’ve decided that I’d like to give up germs for Lent. No germs, no viruses, no infections – no kleenex, no ‘quil, no (please, God) pukebuckets.

Oh, I know I’m being sacreligious. I’m a Methodist, I’m allowed from time to time. Leave me alone.

Note to self: Mucinex isn’t worth it. I felt clearer for an hour or so, but twelve hours later I’m so dry I could nearly cry. My eyes are dry, my throat is dry, my mouth is dry. Not my nose, though. It’s in no way dry. And while the medicine may have jostled up those green guys in wifebeaters in my lungs, it hasn’t improved my ability to actually get the mucus out when I cough. I cough until the muscles in my back and stomach scream, until I’m sure I’m going to throw up without benefit of Ryan’s virus, and still nothing comes out of my lungs. It is teh suxor.

I look like unholy hell, too. I really don’t know if I’m going to have it in me to go to work in the morning, and I’ve got a meeting tomorrow afternoon.

I have IDOL SPECULATION but I’m too tired to deal with it right now. Tomorrow. Man, if they didn’t force six eliminations of each gender, this season would be an all-woman show…

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