For a Limited Time Only, Glamour Shots By Deb Are 75% Off

The status quo is this:

I cannot suck air into my nose, although everything is more than capable of running out of my nose. This has turned me into one of those very nasty mouth breathers, and that, my friends, has chapped my lips.

I texted Cody today, and, in my best Napoleon imitation, said, “Bring me my chapstick! My lips hurt real bad.”

I was living on the edge that perhaps someone out there would take pity on me and trek out into the eight-inches of new snow to bring me a tube of chapstick at work, on a day when I wasn’t even supposed to be working. Instead, five minutes later, my incoming text message chime sounded.

“Just ask the nurse! She has like five sticks in her desk!”

Thank you, Kip.

And then…this one: “So, have you been licking every single shopping cart you see? You’re a germ magnet.”

People, I have no idea WHY November has treated me so rotten. First, it was the Lingering Chest Cold which kicked Mucinex in the backside. Now, it’s Head Cold ’10. As I said, I wash my hands until they’re raw. I buy Clorox wipes in bulk. (I’m not even kidding on that one! You know the FAMILY PACKS of wipes? The multiple tubs that are shrink-wrapped together for a family of sixteen? Yeah. THOSE are the packages that I buy, because I can empty a tub of Clorox wipes faster than Hollywood stars can change boyfriends….faster than Lady Gaga can change fashion ensembles.) I have even been drinking Emergen-C packets. Repeatedly. According to the books, I am doing everything RIGHT.

According to my health status, I might as well be laying on the bathroom floor of the nearest truck stop, licking the bottom side of the potty and resting my cheek on the dirty tiles. Shopping carts seem tame with the germage I’m dragging home. I won’t be taking any glamour shots with Deb anytime soon — believe me! Not with this red nose.

Of course, I blame my kindergarten PE class completely. They’re cute. Their noses run. Their fingers are in their noses, in their mouths, in the cracks of the playground’s asphalt. And they hug me, and I hug them back. They sneeze on me. They cough on me. They love on me. How can I be expected to remain in stellar health under severe fire like that?

Happy Monday night, y’all. I’m off to smear my lips with chapstick and my neck with Vicks VapoRub.

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