My head floats about it a kind of dreamy random fashion, feeling not quite attached to my brain stem. The fluid that it floats in is being produced in prodigious amounts by my sinuses with astonishing efficiency, thus rendering me . . . muzzy in all areas of living at the moment.
I make a feeble attempt to ameliorate the flood with regular doses of Sudafed. I am highly suspicious of its efficacy. But doing something makes me feel better than total surrender to the nose dripping, eye burning, mouth breathing misery.
I also washed down a handful of vitamins along with the cold drugs thinking perhaps that they might join forces once thrown into the fray together. Though I suspect a certain ideological divide between the vitamins and the cold medicine. Maybe the drinkable yogurt will lubricate their differences long enough for a detente to develop.
At this point, I don't hold out much hope. I'd call in the Marines, but I'm pretty sure they have their hands full elsewhere.
Ergo, I sit and knit... slowly, yeah, muzzily, on a seed stitch scarf even though I would rather be reading one of my two new books. But when I try, I can't follow the train of thought, and don't want to waste my well spent Amazon money by reading them in a fog.
Therefore, you will have to wait a spell for my book reports.
(We won't hold our breath there mouthbreather.)
He's so mean. Don't you think?
I make a feeble attempt to ameliorate the flood with regular doses of Sudafed. I am highly suspicious of its efficacy. But doing something makes me feel better than total surrender to the nose dripping, eye burning, mouth breathing misery.
I also washed down a handful of vitamins along with the cold drugs thinking perhaps that they might join forces once thrown into the fray together. Though I suspect a certain ideological divide between the vitamins and the cold medicine. Maybe the drinkable yogurt will lubricate their differences long enough for a detente to develop.
At this point, I don't hold out much hope. I'd call in the Marines, but I'm pretty sure they have their hands full elsewhere.
Ergo, I sit and knit... slowly, yeah, muzzily, on a seed stitch scarf even though I would rather be reading one of my two new books. But when I try, I can't follow the train of thought, and don't want to waste my well spent Amazon money by reading them in a fog.
Therefore, you will have to wait a spell for my book reports.
(We won't hold our breath there mouthbreather.)
He's so mean. Don't you think?