I went to the shop.

This was a completely unplanned visit, as I had originally been planning on going to work. This change of events occurred upon waking, when it became evident that the only way I could possibly breathe was if somebody had a very long straw they could stick down my throat and then blow into quite generously.

So I called in sick, and then caught the bus to the shop.

That is, I almost missed the bus. I was there, at the bus stop, nice and early, and there were two different buses due. Three other women sat on the bench, clearly oblivious to my fatty-fat-throat suffering, seeing as they made me stand up and cough loudly. My bus came along, and everyone stood up. The middle woman noticed that it was my bus, rather than the other bus, and on behalf of everyone there decided to shake her head vigorously and WAVE THE BUS ON.

Thank you, thoughtless twatting cow. I HATE YOU. The bus driver saw the lady and sped up to continue past the stop, and it was only with my frantic waving and hobbling onto the road that he pulled over.

So, fast forward to the shop. I bought the following items:

• Vicks Throat Drops
• Honey and Lemon Herbal Tea for Soothing the Throat
• Chemist's Own Mighty Strong Pills, for which my ID was required, because obviously I want to grind them up and make Speed to sell to the children
• Herron Ibuprofen, which I am not planning on mixing with the other medication, but wanted to keep in my drawer for when the Speed runs out
• Nyal MediThroat Gargle
• Bread, mince, and bog roll, but these are irrelevant to the story
  

The throat drops are utterly useless to a world of pain such as mine. The honey and lemon tea, which smelt quite nice when it was in dry, bagged form on the shelf, is actually utterly MINGING but I am sipping it regardless, for the soothing, soothing heat. The Strong Pills are yet to kick in, but when they do I shall dance about in a pseudoephedrine-induced frenzy. The Ibuprofen is sitting in my drawer, making itself quite at home.

And the gargle. Oh, the arsing gargle. It came with a little measuring cup which I was to use to dilute the potent mixture. Do not use if hypersensitive to iodine, it said, when it actually should say THIS IS PURE IODINE, YUM YUM.

I squirted in my 1mL, added 20mL of water, and swirled it around.

Now I don't know about you, because maybe I have an abnormally small mouth, but 21mL was one hell of a gobful. I poured it in and let it sit while I composed myself. Becoming wary of my teeth turning a lovely shade of purply-brown I tilted my head back and began The Gargling. It frothed out of my mouth and a bit ran down my cheek. I took a short break to mop my face down and continued.

Gargle for thirty seconds, it said. I watched the clock. I got to twelve seconds before I stopped and began to gag. It was so fricking vile, and there was so much of it bubbling out of my mouth that I nearly vomited purplebrown, then and there. Maybe I have too much in my mouth, I thought, and before I knew it the whole lot had come out and sprayed all over the sink. Purplebrown sink. I rinsed my mouth, shoved about eight Vicks Throat Drops in to get rid of That Taste, and sat back down.

Stupid arsing sickness. Why didn't I take the taxi driver's advice and knock back a bottle of brandy?