A Little Drippy
Biscuit has been gone for three long weeks, off being trained by monks (sadly, not in the ancient art of Kung Fu as one might hope). The void in the house is almost tangible. Our sweet little dog made us more of a family, and we miss her.
As if suffering through puppy withdrawals was not enough, I managed to conjure up a very sexy sinus infection / post-nasal drip duo. My head's sense of humor is like, the worst. Yesterday I woke up and just knew that it was time to see a doctor. I could have let it go and tried to ride it out, but last time I did that I ended up with bronchitis (possibly the only affliction more fabulous than post-nasal drip) and spent a week huddled in a blanket doing a fantastic honey badger impression.
I tried the Duane Reade walk-in doctor and had a lovely experiece. Dr. Lawrence and I laughed and joked and she was generally one of the most pleasant people I encountered yesterday. She wrote me a prescription for FloNase and called me "Love" a handful of times and agreed that this case of the sniffles would (probably) not kill me.
So there's the occasional weepiness from the missing of The Biscuit, and now the incessant nose-blowing and sniffling. The good news is that it should all clear up by Saturday (when Biscuit comes home and the FloNase will have had a couple days to get me back on track).
As always... here's to Saturday!