Puffs plus misery
People always like to brag about how you can get everything delivered in New York, and that might be true, but the trouble is that there are no superstores so no one store will never have all the things you need on a given day. Also, that I’m a poor student and can’t pay extra to have lots of things delivered. So today, I got out from under my multi-blankets and shopped for all the things I require. Here was my list:
- Decongestant
- Antihistamine
- Tissues
- Chicken soup
- Matzo balls
- Chicken pot pie
- Apple juice
- Brown sugar*
*I promised chocolate chip cookie cake to the fine folks putting up with me at my internship school later this week. There is no medicinal value, despite what Mick Jagger says.
As you can tell, I’m illin’. But I plan on being drugged and full of assorted chickeny foods very shortly. I just hope I’m better in time for my favorite holiday, Half-Price Chocolate Day.
I really wanted to call this post “Puffs plus one.” But that made no sense. Still, this song is in my head.
Haircut 100 – Love Plus One
Awwww, feel better soon.
As I was reading your post, I was mentally composing a sympathy-laden reply. But then I got to “chocolate chip cookie cake.” Feel better soon! 😀
Well, that looks bad ~ part of my post disappeared. The part that said “refocusing” and *then* the “feel better soon!”
Thanks, Beth!
Payton, hee! It was fine the first way, too. I really want a cookie, though…. I should have put that on my shopping list.
Oh, my poor little baby doll. I hope you feel better soon. It’s never fun to be sick.
That sounds like a good service for someone to start in NYC, home delivery of all the common sick items.
I hope you score some good 1/2 price chocolate tomorrow. And feel beter soon.
Apple juice sounds odd to me for sick-juice. I crave everthing sour when I have a cold–lemonade, hot n sour soup, salt and vinegar potato chips.
Thank you, Tami. No, no it isn’t.
Elena, they probably have it and I can’t afford it. I think the apple juice is just a nice thick, throat-coating beverage. Or else my mother served it to me when I was sick as a child. Probably the latter.
Doesn’t it warm your heart that we celebrate Susan B. Anthony’s birthday with half-priced chocolate and drooping roses? I think she’d approve.
Your real name is Susan B. Anthony?
Well, that’s that. From now on, every time I see her name, I’m going to think “Sarpon B. Anthony.”
Sorry to out you, Sarpon!