I am one broke-down fattie.

Whine, whine, whine. That's what sucking down horse-choking antibiotics and associated goodies will do to ya. My delicate constitution is revolting, as am I (as a result of my delicate constitution revolting-verb, making me revolting-adjective. Got that, grammar fans?) I am exhausted, thirsty and not as functional as I'd like to be (lots of highly necessary domestic tasks falling by the wayside as I 'lounge' on the sofa attempting to crochet a horse which looks like a pregnant fish.)

The only thing amusing me at the moment is flipping between Reality Shows of Thing I Would Not Like to Attempt, including Project Runway, America's Next Top Model, and my new besties at Cheerleader U.

These girls and boys are Very Serious about cheerleading. The only person on the show with a sense of humor is the slyly masochistic trainer who loves dunking the kiddies into a 50-degree cold pool post-practice. Her, I like. The rest are Very Serious Indeed.

I'm going to have a nice bowl of acceptable herbal tea (Yogi brand Chai, without the syrupy nastiness of 'chai lattes') with some soymilk (just sweet enough). Otherwise, avert your gaze from me at all costs, or you will turn into a pile of ick.

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