All I want for Valentines Day is a bouquet of Claritin

I have a minor head cold. Nothing bad, just enough to turn my poor nose into a fire hydrant and my head has turned a bit cloudy. But it’s mostly just an inconvenience.

But when I have a cold, I do gain some embarrassing tendencies. Like searching through every drawer, digging through the bottom of my purse, hoping beyond hope that I can find one stray little white pill that will take away all my problems.

A lone Claritin.

I never seem to have one handy when I need it most. Last night, the same thing happened for my nighttime fix – my beloved pink pills. I searched through all of my drawers, and to no avail, I had to go to bed a sniffly, runny-nosed mess, left to toss and turn and cough all night instead of slipping into a peaceful benadryl coma.

But alas – I found an unopened box of off-brand benadryl in my bathroom cabinet this morning. And even better, I found one lone Claritin in the back of my bathroom drawer, only a few days from its expiration date (not that matters, I’d take a 10-year-old Claritin if it was my only option), just begging me to take it. My day is off to a stellar start.

Oh, and I may or may not be carrying a roll of toilet paper in my purse. Because I forgot to buy kleenex.

You know me. Keeping it classy.

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