I admit it...It's all my fault

I was talking to my sister Saturday night. She's been battling a cold for quite a while, like weeks. With a certain degree of big-sister smuggness I said, "I had a flu shot and haven't been sick yet this year." Half way through the sentence she tried to cut me off and warn me to not go any further, but being the smarty-pants that I am, I didn't shut up. Apparently I was too brash and boastful about my good health. God heard me, and WHAMMO, I started sniffling during church the next morning. By the time we got home I felt like crap. So I popped a couple Zicam and crawled into bed.

It's now four days later and I'm a chapped, drippy mess. Today, my boss actually said to me, "You're so, so...red," as he made gestures around his nose. I admit that with a touch of white face paint, I could easily pass as Bozo, but what a way to make a girl feel pretty! I've not been able to breathe properly for 4 days, which is making me light-headed due to oxygen-deprivation. My voice sounds like I'm talking into a coffee can. There is not a tissue that can contain my sneezes. My tastebuds are completely gone and everything tastes somewhat like cardboard. Each time I inhale, I hear a faint whistle--I think it's D minor. I'm perpetually soggy. Colds suck.

When will I learn to keep my big mouth shut? It's time for another dose of Sudafed with a dark chocolate chaser.






But, Dear Readers (yes, plural--because I think there are two of you now) there is a silver lining...Zack has complained that the dog is rather gassy this evening. I haven't noticed.