The morning began with the sound of a cat vomiting by my head.
It went straight downhill from there. I am phlegmish. Once again amazed at the body's ability to produce sputum. Awed by the bile fountain I have become. Entranced by my snot production.
Supine, I doze on and off, then decide to watch a little idiot box. When I realize I lost my remote control, I almost burst into tears like a hungry baby with a bottle just out of reach. I grab for the box of tissue to staunch my leaking nose and resign myself to karmic punishment of viral proportions.
UPDATE: I found the remote! It was on the top shelf of beloved books read bookcase. How do I feel? My hands feel just like two balloons. I can't explain; you would not understand. This is not how I am.
UPDATED UPDATE: You don't feel well. You're tired, you're crabby. So why in hell do they make it so hard to bust open the freaking medication packets? Bastards.
UBdaPted Updabted UPdatw: Got hte pacjet open. Tool witg a feq bers. Fell mucj bettter, thanks you vrrrrry much>
1 comment:
Un-openable packagong has long been a pet peeve of mine.
only two slolutions that I can see.
Open them in advance
or
buy them on the street like I do.
jon
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