There's many things I can tolerate just fine, bullshittery being high on that list, but one thing I can't? Being sick.
I woke up this morning hacking up a lung, and my voice was completely gone from the outset. This wouldn't be so bad if I was spending a quiet weekend at home, just hanging out. Nope. I work at a retail establishment that frequently requires me to use my voice. As you can imagine, I was dying a little bit every time I tried to open my mouth and say "hey, how's it going" to some poor customer who thought I was a four-pack-a-day smoker.
Thankfully I'm past the contagious stage. That lovely period of feeling like run-over garbage happened a few days ago. But just like the persistent cough that accompanies any sort of pulmonary viral infection, this is probably going to stick with me for a few days. What kills me is it makes talking to my daughter (and wrangling her in) nearly impossible, and she loves to talk. I love to talk with her too, but like this? I feel like a cartoon character comically whisper screaming because I'm in a library or something.