Heidi in Real Life

I had a terrible cold for a month .  I have “Seven Dwarf” symptoms too-- Dopey, Sleepy, Sneezy and Grouchy.   I’m thinking I need Doc, but I know what she’ll say:  “It’s a Virus.”  But I’m miserable enough to risk getting the "V" word.    Nice Lady at Doctor’s Office (NLDO):  “What are your symptoms? Me :  “Green *goo* pouring out many of my orifices and the total loss of 4 of the 5 senses.” NLDO :  “Do you have a fever?” Dishonest Wench ( still me ):“Yes, 101 (always a good number to say when you’re lying about your temperature) but I took Ibuprofen so now it’s normal.” NLDO :  “When can you come in?” I’m on the schedule, but not home-free.  In years past, green *goo* (which wasn’t a lie) was the ticket to getting a prescription.  Now?  Not so easy.   Mentioning a fever, may make a bigger impression.   I’m hoping I can manage something like a friend of mine, who was bequeathed with a prescription when he “saved” what was sure to be a sensational, slimy “loogie” for an

Yesterday, I found two Godiva chocolate bars as I was going to put in my kids’ Christmas stockings.  I ate them like Scarlett O’Hara, filthy from the war, mauled that dusty radish on Tara. I probably have a slight addiction. I walked into a candy shop and the customers in the store looked up at me, in unison, like animals sensing a predator.  They clutched their selections and scurried to the cash register.  The candy clerk became super enthusiastic, determined to make me feel like the most important person in the entire mall.  When the manager of the store saw me, his eyeballs rolled back and became dollar signs like Uncle Scrooge McDuck. Large women have this affect on chocolate vendors.  Trying to be a reformed choco-holic, I went to a sporting goods store looking for some new exercise gear.  On the cashier’s counter was a display of extra-long Snickers , next to them Butterfingers large enough to be labeled Butter feet .  “That’s gotta be one of those “Power Bars” with aspar