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Actualizing or stuffed sinuses?

Stuffy nosed and sore throated, I peel myself off the bed and make my way slowly to my doctor's little office where he keeps magazines in the waiting room, that I devour like candy. I like the poetic text of a seller of watches.

And I also love the outfit of a black jacket with breasts partly exposed that I notice midway through the March Madame. I've loved this look forever but I've never had the nerve to rock it.

It's a bit too modest for the office, so that's out.

I add to the unofficial list of wonderful things, some little ditty to wear a shirtless suit. The Beyoncé and Jay-Z concert in July? Perhaps, perhaps.

Dr G., my salt and pepper haired médecin (heaps of salt, touch of pepper) tells me I have a sinus infection.

These last few days when I felt light headed, I thought maybe I was actualizing, reaching some deeper level of understanding the world and myself.

But it turns out I just had stuffed sinuses.

I hate it when that happens.


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