Well friends, it’s after 4:00 on a Thursday, so you know what that means…
That’s right! I’m on my couch in my jabambas catching up on the TV I missed this week while I was doing big girl work. It’s great. There’s just one problem: I can’t breathe through my nose. You see, that cold I had was apparently just lying dormant for a week or so, planning its nefarious return, and hoo-boy has it ever returned. I’ve been popping generic DayQuil like Voreos, but the cold just laughs at it. And I’ve had a good 4000% of my daily recommended amount of Vitamin C, but the cold just brushes it aside and says, “That’s pathetic.” I even flushed out my nasal cavity with a Neti pot yesterday, and the cold took that as the perfect opportunity to produce ten times the amount of snot I had up in there before. Awesome.
So I know I owe you guys a few posts. Specifically, there are a few more things I need to tell you about Eric Kearns, we need to talk holiday cards, I’ve got a letter to Bon Jovi to write, and I need to answer the next two questions on my formspring page:
- What would a 19th century Beth be like?
- Would you ever go to a nude beach.
But for now, as long as I’ve got the capacity, I need to go practice my nose trumpeting. I think I’ve almost got “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” and I’m hoping to really nail “When the Saints Go Marching In” by the time this cold clears up. If it sticks around long enough, I might just hire myself out to local churches for their Christmas Cantatas.