Merry Christ-choooooooo!

This body of mine, it is costing me money.

Or maybe it's the kid who is costing me money.  I mean, more than the usual amount he costs me, which is a lot.

Regardless, he got me sick and now it's costing me money.  Like, first it was  $15 copay at the Walgreens Take Care Clinic.  Which, by the way, is awesome and if you don't go there for the minor stuff instead of to your GP you hate kittens.  Because it is super-duper.  Like, no waiting, no fuss, no hateful nurses who keep you in the exam room for half an hour after you spent half an hour in the waiting room, just for spite.  No doctors rushing in and pretending to remember you even though it's clear they think you are that Donna girl who everyone says looks something like you but has herpes, because they keep asking you, 'But, is everything else okay?  I mean, is there anything else you need to talk about today?"  No, the Walgreens joint is slick.  In, out, twenty minutes, a strep test, a thorough discussion of symptoms with a CNA and a Nurse Practitioner, and you are out the door, prescription in hand.

Except they didn't give me a prescription, because they said what I have is probably viral and I just have to tough it out.  BUT I WANT MY Z PAC!  GIVE ME A Z PAC!  I just like to say Z PAC!

I have been on a steady and careful regimine of Dayquil, Advil, and Nyquil, in timed succession.  I've probably spent $30 on over the counter drugs, and I'm still hacking up a lung.  So now the bill for this cold is up to $45.

And then I had to cancel a Flying Fork appearance this weekend, because, you know, no one really wants me sneezing on their samples.  "Merry Christ-choooooooooooooooooo!  Here's a piece of chicken! BARK BARK BARK HACK."  Very appetizing.  Very Fork-tastic.  There's a pricetag on that cancellation that I don't even want to talk about it.  Suffice to say, it's triple digits.  I know.  I'm really in demand.

They say to feed a cold and starve a fever, and to that end my bill for my lunches this week is about to be so high they're going to cut me off of my auto-deduct in the lunchroom.  Bitches.  This is a hospital, for crying out loud.  FEED A COLD.  IT IS MEDICAL.

Merry Christ-choo to you and yours.  Hopefully I'm better by tomorrow or I'll have to take another financial hit in that I'll have to miss the annual Xmas Xaos party, wherein I always come home with my year's supply of good-smelling lotion.