God, I can't stand Halls!

With or without menthol, after you've sucked so many you're sweating vapors, well, they kind of get under your skin.

I'm on like my second bag. No, halfway through the third. My throat feels like I swallowed a bag of razor blades by mistake. My nose is stuffy. My voice, when I have it, sounds like Tone Loc singing about Funky Cold Medina, and I've been pretty much sitting in various spots all day...okay, went out to the drug store and later the grocery store, but that's it. Strained my voice in the grocery store because my voice wasn't coming out and I NEEDED to thank the cashier and the bag person. Third attempt for the checker, second for the bagger. My mother raised her kids to be polite...to a fault.

And then, as I cleared my raw throat for like the thirtieth time in like five minutes, I realized that these colds and flues (sp?) are payback for the evil that man does. Think about it -- other karmic potentials seem to rarely come to pass, and if they do, you're often not around to relish in it (which is no fun whatsoever). So rather than wait for the big one, the next time someone who's done you wrong gets a nasty one, thank Karma, or your god or goddess of choice. Or the cosmic energy that makes the universe go round. Or Pee Wee Herman -- whatever makes sense to you. Cause this ones' for you! I promise.