I'm not at death's door. I'm certainly not a hypochondriac. If anything I am tackling this winter cough due to cold with practicality just as a doctor or mom would. Granted, I make a misstep here or there. Who has time for bed rest? And OK maybe that ONE cigarette after that phlegm producing cheese plate was pushing it.
But this wheezing and whistling? I sound like I'm in a TB sanatorium for crying out loud. Should I start invoking the spirit of Doc Holiday and lament my 'consumption' over a poker table?
At some point during the psychedelic fever dreams, I had an epiphany. Or maybe more of a clever marketing strategy. I have single handedly kept Celestial Seasons Teas in business this week. I bundle up and walk a block to my local bodega to stand and marvel at their selection. They cover their bases and certainly don't disappoint you in your requirements for healing.
They've got the requisite Green and Black and Chamoille. But there's Detox and Menstrual and Echinacea and Ginseng Energy and Diet and Sleepytime Throat and Tension Tamer. My God It's impressive.
They should keep it going though? Branch out further. REALLY take care of every possible ailment or mood?
How's about...
I Just Passed my G.E.D. Tea.
I Stubbed my Toe Tea.
Ebay Auction Loser Tea.
His Facebook Status Denotes a Hint of Irony Tea.
Cognitive Dissonance Tea.
Ipod Warranty Expiration Tea.
Can you dig it?
I kneeeeeew that you could.
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