Woke up with a bitchin' bad scratchy throat yesterday and by this morning swallowing felt like gargling gravel. I think the swimming pool is just a huge blue bowl of germs. This throat thing gets me every summer.
Funniest thing the doc asked me this morning: "Are you breast feeding?" And I wanted to say, "No, what should I feed them?" But I couldn't croak it out.
I shall recline in a shady room now. Outside it's over 100, with "red air warnings," which sounds like something Ray Bradbury put in The Martian Chronicles.
The homeopathic theory would be that my closed-up throat is the result of my not being able to say what needs saying (see entry below). But I'm hoping it's just a bacterium that will be zapped by the $35 Z-pack of antibiotics.
If you have home remedies, I'm game to try anything.
I'll leave you for today with this line from a recent Conan O'Brien monologue: According to a new campus study, iPods are now more popular among college students than beer. Experts say the trend won't last unless iPods make ugly people look good at 2 a.m.