Ommmm *cough * Ommmm....

Please no, not now, no. No no no no no. Aw, crap. Sarah is dying. Her head is pounding, it feels like there are socks stuffed up her nose. At first she thought it was allergies- tis the season and everything- then the thick head, phlegmy couch, an absolute inability to sleep because the moment she lays her head down she can't breathe. Smothered alive by her own histamines. Underwater, drowning in the sound of her own body; her ears are plugged up so every swallow sounds like a crackling back of tortilla chips. Which would be great if she had any appetite at all. Not that she's not eating. Exhausted, punch drunk with daytime cold medicine and she shovels in some oatmeal and cups of earl grey, shots of  vitamin c. All that time dating the yogi and the best gift was being turned onto the neti pot. Excruciatingly painful- she nearly collapses on the floor trying to fill her sinuses with salt water. What a bizarre idea. One side is fine but the other is akin to being held upside down in the dunk tank by her older brother and his friends when she was 8. So not fun. Ugh. The bath helped, but knowing she has the most important job meeting of her life coming up in two hours is pressing her into making some hasty decisions: coffee or more meds. Ephedrine, speed- god, it's like Breaking Bad in her medicine chest- or copious amounts of caffeine to help thin everything out. Either way she's worried about her heart and her spastic, hyper, snot nosed appearance; both options rev her up and she's revved high enough as is. Oh timing- you suck. Either or, Sarah needs to be at her best. Or today's version of her best. What would Buddha do, hmmmm...probably not have a mind numbingly awful sinus issue, that's what. Om mani padi hum. Then she figures it out- Om'ing helps loosen up her chest and head. Huh, who knew. So that's it then- pack her presentation and meditate, loudly, the entire time in transit. Ommmmm...*cough cough cough*.

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