One of the writers I work with from time to time sent me an email not so long ago to say that she’d been reading my blog and that it occurred to her that I get sick a lot. She’s a qualified aromatherapist, so she suggested a few things I might use to make myself less susceptible to every damn thing that comes around. This was last year, when I got sick constantly. I was new to the City, and I think the combination of an unfamiliar gene pool and staying out all night far too often did me in.
This year, I’ve been much healthier. (Side note: My friends who are native New Yorkers hardly ever get sick, and when they do, they shake it off pretty easily.) However, I still got my Annual New Year’s Cold.
Yesterday, I thought I was dying, but today, I feel much better and sound much worse. I’m still staying in my pajamas, though, which will be entertaining later this afternoon when I go out to meet my former roommate for coffee.
Roommate: “Do your pants say ‘ho ho ho’?”
Me: “Maybe.”
Anyway, it was a really spectacular Christmas, the best ever, maybe. You can read select quotes from SMASHmas over at Legend of the Drunken Mouse. When my head clears its cold medicine fug, I’ll fill in the gaps.
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