Writing Under the Influence …

ONE. I’m ONE measly DEGREE over the normal temperature. Incredible.  One degree … yet I can feel the skin on my cheeks twinkling like Christmas lights.  It’s currently snowing here in Atlanta, at least I think it’s snowing.  In my state it could very well be ping-pong balls raining from heaven, but I’m pretty sure it’s snow.  Or just ping-pong balls.

It’s the bronchitis season for me and thanks to my doctor, I’m armed with antibiotics and a miracle prescription drug I’ve heard some people refer to as “purple drank”.  Even at only a quarter of the prescribed dose, not only does it do wonders for a cough, but it has caused me to grow an enormous pair of berries I suddenly became acutely aware of the very second I hit the “SEND” button on my GMail.

I was aghast.  What had I done?  I could never go back to my pharmacist again.

The thank you note I had just “carefully” composed and sent her was peppered with phrases like “my cough is fuzzy memory” and “flying the purple haze”.  Is there an international watch list for people sending email when they have a fever? … I’m bound to be on it by now.

Three o’clock.  Time for another dose.  Which reminds me … I need to write the in-laws …