In other news...

[desperance]

He also likes meringue, but that makes sense to me. The sugar aside, it's all egg-white, and we've already established that all my eggses r belong to him.

Meanwhile, I have no voice this morning. None at all. I don't really feel ill, I just can't speak. Either it's packed and left because it can't handle all the stress, or I am in fact incubating something that's coming through in single spies, rather than battalions. Either way, I coulda done without this. I need my voice; I have a party to go to later, people to charm with gay insouciance, etc. Also, Barry is a conversationalist.

Comments

[angelsasha.livejournal.com]

Aaww, feel better soon! I hate losing my voice, it's so strange and discomforting. I also talk. A lot. So my natural state is all broken when it goes away.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I don't actually think of myself as much of a talker (this is a redundant self-image, based on the quiet soul I used to be twenty-some years ago, but it's a clinger), and the absence of voice keeps taking me by surprise; I forget, and then open my mouth to say something, and this reedy whistling croak occurs...