It is Monday for real and today it's my body that's revolting - in both senses of the word. I stayed home from work with the worst cold/flu/sinus infection I've ever had. Work found me this afternoon in the form of an e-mail, a summons really...topic to be continued, if I can get past my chagrin, that is.
And, just when I thought I couldn't feel too much worse about myself...
This afternoon I dragged out of the house for a second time in a display of willful disobedience of Dr. Shelly's request that I not fill the prescription for anti-biotics until I'd tried snorting saline solution up my sinus passages for a couple of days. It sounded great at the time. I imagined an irrigation that would bring instant relief instead of the hissy fit that actually ensued. So, I went to get my meds. at the excellent pharmacy at the Glen Cove Safeway (insert an glowing review of the pharmacists here). While those stellar chemists got my pills ready I shopped, picking up regular-sized bars of soap, strawberry jam and throat numbing spray. I had time to kill, so I did what I usually do. Hang out in the magazine aisle. Today I grabbed Cosmopolitan off the rack and opened to an article that blared a title like, "How to make those skanky bedroom moves he secretly craves!" A few seconds later, I heard "Finding everything you're looking for, ma'am?" I turned my head and found the leering smirk of a bag boy who looked like an only slightly older Stevie from Malcolm in the Middle.
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