I have been going to Caribou daily this week, which is not really a normal habit for me.  I have been trying to cut back on caffeine because I’ve noticed I get wicked withdrawal and I don’t want anything having that much hold over me.  But I have felt so worn out all week, more than usual, so I’ve been hitting the ‘bou.  This morning I decided I would save the $2.11 and make coffee at home.  I spent ten minutes firing up the Keurig and then trying to find my favorite travel cup.  Only to open it up and find a long dead bug in the bottom, and I didn’t have time to scrub it properly, so I looked for a second cup.  Then I realized that one wouldn’t fit under the Keurig, even with the tray pulled out, so then I had to look for something else to pour it into with a spout – this is entirely too much work when you haven’t been caffeinated yet!  At last, SUCCESS, I had my coffee in a travel cup.

And then I left the house and totally left it sitting on the kitchen table.  DAMNIT!

I am still sick from a month ago, where I went to the ridiculous prompt care where the doctor told me take vitamins and gave me a seven day supply of cough syrup that I rationed out to last me through two wedding weekends.  I really should not still be coughing up green shit at this point, but I am.  Alarmingly so.  My mom and Andy and friends are like GO TO THE DOCTOR and I’m like “What, so he can give me more Vitamin D?”  I don’t have a fever, or really any other symptoms, and the coughing is mostly restricted to early morning and late at night, so if I went to the doctor I would seem pretty normal.

Except the last two days I’ve woken up feeling achy, like flu-achy.  Which is really not good, and the short walk just now to Caribou and the bank just kicked my ass since I’m operating at about 25% lung capacity.  But since I still don’t have a fever or anything that can be scientifically measured, I know the jackass at prompt care is going to assume I’m a hypochondriac and do nothing.

Yes, I should probably get a REAL doctor, one that is confident enough in his/her clinical assessments to, I dunno, prescribe antibiotics and actual medicine, but I don’t like doctors.  It’s a miracle I went to a prompt care to begin with. I am thinking about perhaps going back, but sneaking in some scalding hot coffee, gargling with it, and then swallowing discretely before the nurse walks in to take my temperature.  And then she will be like ZOMG,106!