Thursday, December 07, 2006

I'm an evil Pop-Tart

I'm still sick.

And that leaves me feeling evil.

I'm stuffed up, with a raspy throat, and I've had a headache pretty much non-stop since Tuesday. I think it's one of those sinus headaches people used to whine about on TV ads when I was a kid and had no idea what they were talking about. They would press on the areas around their noses and moan about the pain! and pressure!

Unfortunately, I think I have figured out what they were talking about.

It wouldn't be so bad, except I refuse to take any cold medicine whatsoever. Cold medicine makes me almost as weird as Demoral makes me. And the one time I was given Demoral, I became so weird that I've been entertaining people at parties for over 10 years with the hilarious descriptions of the way I reacted.

(In better hands, this story would have me dining out free for life, except nobody gives dinner parties any more. It's tough out there for us dinner party raconteurs. Even Oscar Wilde would starve.)

Now, cold medicine doesn't make me that weird--or funny--but it makes me weird enough. And I don't want to find myself alphabetizing the spice rack at 2:00 in the morning. So ixnay on the eudoephedrine-psay.

Being sick is actually OK when I'm home alone, and it sure helps with the paperwork. I mean, you wouldn't believe the bills I've paid and the appointments I've set up for snow plow services, fire wood deliveries, and similar exciting aspects of owning a house in the frozen north.

But three days of non-stop nose-blowing and sounding like a flock of geese flying south (HONK! HONK!) have palled.

And so, I'm evil.

And so, I've accepted I'm an Evil Pop-Tart as my renter. This is kind of like PostSecret, except you don't have to mess around with stamps and shit. You can just confess your evil deeds on line. And the confessions are pretty funny. So check it out.

And then try to guess which one is mine.


  1. Can you take that Zinc stuff you inhale? Works a treat.

    Feel better, I have sinusitis just reading this post.

  2. well see what happens when I'm nice?

    my nose is running like a faucet, my head is thick as a brick and my throat is all scratchy.

    I'm allergic to zinc, so you know.

  3. I thought that cold stuff these days didn't have pseudoephedrine any more.


  4. Gack. Sounds like you've got what's kept my boy home all frikkin week. He refuses to take pseudo-sudafed, too and has the crusty nose to show for it.


    Hope you're feeling better. And hope your kids don't get this pertussus thing I keep reading about that's taking over Newtopia.

  5. You friggin' chocolate hiders deserve EVERY DISEASE YOU GET!

    (Or B: You REALLY need to stop sleeping with your husband's boss before he gets fired again.)

  6. Susie:

    If you ever saw my husband's boss, you'd know how funny that was. It would be like sleeping with Yertle the Turtle.

    But yeah, I hide chocolate. IN MY STOMACH.


Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.