friday morning i awoke with a sore throat. drat, i thought, i don't have time to be sick. a lack of time, notwithstanding, i proceeded to get sicker throughout the day and by friday night, i was in a bad way. coughdrops weren't cutting it, airborne wasn't doing a thing, orange juice, puh-leeze. i had to pull out the big guns. the nightime sniffling sneezing coughing aching stuffyhead fever so you can rest should be federally regulated medicine. as the nyquil suffused my body, i could feel myself laying heavier and heavier on the matress. turning my head took so much effort. strange, i thought slowly. and then the poetry began. i giggled as i drifted off to sleep. something about yoda? when the drugs wore off around four-thiry am, i struggled to remember my poem.
nyquil taken
heavy feeling
yoda talking
goodnight
i didn't say it was good poetry. ah, nyquil. not only do you help me sleep, you give me funny stories. my sister said nyquil should have a contest for craziest nyquil stories. i can only imagine.
well the stuff is 10% alcohol. so basically you were drunk (buzzed) which explains the dumb poem, as well as how funny and clever you thought it was. haha
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