Dayquil, I heart thee.

I love Laurie Notaro.

I've always been kind of a sucker for authors like Erma Bombeck who write hilarious prose on their lives. Laurie Notaro's is a little more tongue-and-cheek, and her view on things like flippy hair and giant kitchen-raiding rats named Molly keep my attention almost as well as the blogs I frequent (all hail The Bloggess and SFLovestory!)

In honor of that, I'm asking that you go out and find yourself a copy of We Though You'd Be Prettier. Its awesome.

Also, I still have the cough from hell.

I think possibly that I may have broken my lungs.

And you know what? I don't even smoke. Whattheeff.

In other news, I'm avoiding the Wal-Mart tonight. Apparently some gang members have been informed that for initiation they must shoot three women at a local Wally World. Or so I've been told by mass text messages/e-mails/anonymous tipsters. I'm a sucker for suspicious stuff the truth.

Help a girl out and mail me some Dayquil.

Etsy, you make my life miserable/awesome.

I am wholly capable of going long periods of time without spending money.

Sure, I have things that automatically come out of my account every month, but those are for bills and things that are unavoidable. I can go months without eating at restaurants, going shopping, and anything else that costs me.

So why did I just get on Etsy to order birthday presents for my best friend and end up buying myself this piano ring?

I'm still sick, bee-tee-dubs.

It hurts like crazy to talk/sing/make any kind of noise involving vocal chords, and on top of that, I have this awesome cough that makes me sound like a 5-pack-a-day chain smoker. Awesome.

To combat this, I'm guzzling liquid Dayquil (which numbs your throat when swallowed, as opposed to waiting an hour for relief with the liquigels) and reading The Bloggess in chronological order. Hooray for Jenny!

Somebody, bring me tofu-chicken noodle soup.

And a big, HUGE Diet Coke.

Thanks.