As I write this, I can barely swallow. My throat feels like someone has rubbed sandpaper over it. And as the old song says, I didn't sleep at all last night.
The culprit? Who knows. But Becky and I are both walking sickos.
Now that I'm popping pills legally, I couldn't help but read the prescription labels. It's funny how some medications are suppossed to be taken on an empty stomach, and others can be taken with anything except alcohol or grapefruit juice; and still others don't mention combinations at all. The only thing I care about are results. Then again, this is a good way to lose that ten pounds I've set as a goal this summer. I'm not eating, so maybe the pills will help.
I also started reading another of Mary Roach's quirky books: Spook, How Science Searches for the Afterlife.
If these pills don't help, I may be joining the ranks of the glorified very soon. But I'm ready, Jesus . . . Glory Hallellujiah!
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