in which nothing happens

There's just nothing going on this week. Nothing.

It's so bad that I actually considered posting a list of all the cold remedies I've tried in the last two weeks. And it's a long list: sore throat spray, cough drops, various nasal sprays, homeopathic remedies and aromatherapy blends. Not to mention the now closely guarded Sudafed...which is unfortunate, because I would think lately there are far more desperate cold sufferers out there looking for relief than there are actual meth-heads trying to score some supplies.

Every time I bought a new cold remedy this past weekend, a cashier or a person in line with me would nod sympathetically and say something like "Yep...it's definitely going around."

I saw the doctor between naps today, and he showed the same perplexed detachment as when I saw him just a month ago for the same problem. "Yes, I'm already taking that and it doesn't help," I found myself saying. "Yeah, I tried that, too. And that. Yes, and even that." All of which I told him a mere month ago! Dude, just hand over the prescription pad already, and I'll come up with something.

Anyway, back to how boring this week has been...

It's so bad that I found myself trying to build a blog entry around the phrase "tempura chicken tesiticles," which I heard on the Travel Channel within minutes of other intriguing phrases like "indigenous nudity" and "midget prostitutes charging half price." Unfortunately, the sinus cavities pressing on my brain seem to be hindering my creativity...and anyway, it was a stretch to begin with.

T.V. just isn't doing it for me these days, and it seems I'm not alone. According to Leah, things are so dull in Philly that Channel 10 did a news segment on itself, followed by a behind-the-scenes look at the making of said segment. And I thought things were slow here in Tulsa!

So I've just been sleeping, and sleeping. Sunshine has a cold too, and we're quite the pair, holed up in the bedroom and hiding our unwashed fur/hair from the world. Tomorrow will be more of the same, I suspect. But by Friday I'll be pumped full of enough antibiotics that I should be able to get off my ass, wash my hair and face the world again.


Oh, this just in: Buster has been heard sneezing. Apparently this cold stuff really is spreading like wildfire.