Halloween Candy Is Not My Friend

After a trip to the doctor this morning — where I was further tortured thanks to my 1-hour holding pattern in the waiting room — I went straight to CVS to fill my prescriptions. Verdict was the flu and a sinus infection, by the way. Two comments that cracked me up the past two days: “It’s not that swine flu shit, is it?” and “You should ask for a new immune system for Christmas!” Yes, yes, I know. My immune system apparently isn’t a friend of mine. I’ve already got an autoimmune disease, what’s another bout with the flu?

Thanks to the 15-minute wait, I wandered over to the candy aisle. Mr. Saver wanted me to wait until the very last minute to buy the candy, because he didn’t want it in the house too long. I don’t blame him; we love our candy. And between the two of us, there wouldn’t have been any left if I’d bought it further in advance.

So I came home with two bags of mixed candies (Reese’s, M&M’s, Skittles, Starburst, KitKats, Whoppers, Jolly Ranchers and Take 5).  And a third bag of Mounds bars. Oh, how I love the mix of coconut and dark chocolate… like manna for my soul.

And I probably should mention that I dropped $30 on those three bags of candy, had no coupons, and nothing was on sale — whoa, Nic is off her rocker. Sadly, that’s about as impulsive as I get, going to the store without coupons or a plan. But I’m sick — that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

We’ve already ripped into two bags, despite the fact that I can’t taste a damned thing, can hardly swallow and have been barely conscious, sleeping most of the past two days.

Now I’m going to finish watching the rest of the Yankees game and pass out, once again. I’ll tackle our stack of bills tomorrow evening.

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