I feel like I might be getting a cold. I can feel the tell-tale tingle in my nose, the constant need to spit/sneeze/blow my nose. It started last night. Not good.

Not good. at. all.

My little sis is flying in this morning, I’m hosting the Thanksgiving dinner this year, there’s cleaning and cooking and preparing to do… I just cannot. get. sick. period.

So this morning I left early early enough to drive to the pharmacy and pick up some airborne and cold-eze. I’m fighting this one with all I’ve got. When I got to the pharmacy, the sign said the store didn’t open for another two hours. It was half an hour before I started work and I was going to find me some airborne, dangit.

So I left that store and went next door where there’s a grocery store. Surely they’re open right? No luck. Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw Le Patisserie. Oh, how I love Le Patisserie. The tickle in my nose was pleading for a warm latte and a croissant. So was my stomach. Besides, I reasoned, there’s plenty of time to go airborne-hunting. I’ll just pop in really quick and be out before you know it.

So I went in and the place was empy aside from one other person. The French cafe music was playing in the background and a lady steps to the counter from the kitchen. This lady is The Lady. The lady that I have been told is Peruvian, who married the French guy that is the patissiere. And I have been wanting to talk to her for ever. Only every time I have gone in there it’s always been packed and it’s just plain rude to try to carry on a conversation with someone when there’s a line out the door. They just want to get their job done, you know? So this was my golden opportunity. Despite knowing that All Peruvians Talk Too Much and I might not get out of the store before 8:00 a.m., I struck up a conversation with her. Indeed, she is Peruvian, and she now knows I am, too. Get this, though. Her husband, the patissiere, only speaks French. And she fessed up that she spoke it not-so-well. How do they even have a relationship?! Anyway, he came out of the kitchen too, and I told him in my broken French that I’ve studied it for 6 or 7 years, but I didn’t speak it well. He replied with an emphatic, “si!” which basically means, “oh yes you do!” and that just made my day, I tell ya. A real Frenchman said I speak French well. But then I realized that there was a line out the door behind me so I stepped aside and said goodbye. I had a cold to kill.

So off I went, more determined than ever to kill my cold. Now I had the approval of a Real Frenchmen to fuel my energy, nevermind it had nothing to do with the cold. So as I was getting closer to my workplace, I remembered there’s another grocery store just right across the street, so I stopped in there to have a peek. Sure enough it was open for business, but really, I shouldn’t have been surprised because there’s a Starbucks in there. That usually means there are early risers. So I got my Airborne, Cold-Eze and briefly pondered taking some Panettone, but decided against it. Ross always has some for waaay cheaper.

Finally I got to work and immediately set about getting some water for my Reliv Shake, because I had to have all the other nutrients, too. I’m pulling out the Big Guns on this cold! And I got a seperate glass of water for the Airborne. And I opened the box of Cold-Eze and popped on in my mouth. It’s now 11:15 a.m. and I’ve had three Cold-Eze. My tongue is sore, I still feel tingly and snotty, and I really, really hope this cold goes away.

I might die of a vitamin C and Zinc overdose, but dangit I WILL NOT GET THIS COLD!

PS: my little sister is flying in today and I can’t wait to pick her up at the airport! And not be sick! So we can watch movies and cook Thanksgiving dinner and go wine tasting!

PPS: I REEEEAAAAALLLLY can’t get sick. Really.

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