You know, usually this time of year, we bitch and moan and crab about how sick we are of winter, and how we wish it was April or May already. Me, I’m fondly remembering the warm, lush days of January. Whoda thunk it. Well me. I remember thunking to myself “Boy, we’re going to be really sorry when all this ends and we get real winter temperatures.”
My nasal passages are so angry with me, we aren’t on speaking terms. I need to swing by the Hallmark Store to buy them a card.
“When you’re blue
And you don’t know
Where to go to
Why don’t you go where saline sits
I’ll give you a spritz.”
I hope it doesn’t have a picture of a flower on the front. My sinuses really hate flowers.