The thing that is supposed to cure me makes me feel worse. This is the irony of taking antibiotics. I avoid them as much as I can. I hate taking antibiotics for many reasons, but I am desperate. So, I buy the horse pills, and I swallow them. I have to take two a day, twelve hours apart. They are huge eclair-shaped tablets, not capsules, and they don’t feel very good going down. They are making me more nauseous and weaker than I was before I took them, and I can only hope they actually do their job.
Oh, there is new content today. Last night’s State of the Union Address (really, it was) and Childish Retort (yes, it was) needed to be hashed.
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