Well, it was bound to happen at some point this year. The inevitable (and incurable) Loss of Any Discernible and/or Recognizable Voice. You see, every virus, every bacterial infection, every everything, heads directly for my throat. Lemme put it to you this way: If the germs clogging up my vocal chords right now were little Paris Hiltons and Lindsay Lohans, my throat would be jail. Or rehab. Or a store that sells lots of hideous leggings. Those little buggers just can't stay away.
I find myself clearing my throat approximately every six seconds. It's a lucky thing that both of my cubicle-mates are absent today. Otherwise, I may have been out a couple bucks due to the earplugs I would have purchased out of guilt. My throat-clearing, you understand (which the boyfriend so kindly pointed out), sounds like a machine gun. Staccato and loud. So very soothing in a work environment.
Oh, and this is really fun, too: Instead of saying "Hello" when I answer the phone, I get to whisper, "SorryI'mlosingmyvoicecanyouhearme?"
Ugh. Is it Friday yet?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment