I think I may be coming down with something.
I’ve been kinda woozy all day, which I had been attributing to being tired until I started coughing like crazy while I was watching The Man Who Wasn’t There.
It’s possible my coughing fit may have been brought on by the thought of all the secondhand smoke of all the characters, who chainsmoked like crazy, but it’s probably some sort of virus instead.
Now is, of course, both a perfect and imperfect time for me to get sick. Perfect because I have no more school, imperfect because I have to leave Friday and drive for three days to Salt Lake City, a drive I am making alone.
Katy, one of my roommates, has some herbal stuff that she swears by, calling it “damn hippie crap,” but claiming it works like a charm, and I’m strongly considering asking her for some of it if I still feel like this when I wake up.
The only problem with this solution is that this involves taking pills that are quite literally the size of my middle finger up to the first knuckle. These things are huge, and you have to take three of them every two hours (or possibly two every three hours…I forget).
I can deal with pills, but these? I dunno…I’m probably gonna have some NyQuil, let that do its job overnight, but if that doesn’t work, I’ll just have to make like Mr. Ed and take my horse pills.