MISSING - JACKI TREW'S VOICE.
Age: 20-odd years
Last Seen: On the dancefloor at The Crowie, last saturday night
Will Answer To: Pretty much anything, even comments that weren't directed at it.
Well, it finally happened. I finally talked myself hoarse. Or to be more accurate, talked/shouted/laughed/sang myself hoarse. Oh, my goodness. I haven't had a throat this sore since (insert dirty comment here). It hurts to talk. It hurts to swallow. It hurts to watch Two And A Half Men. It hurts to think about talking or swallowing or watching Two And A Half Men. The Two And A Half Men thing really has nothing to do with my sore throat, though. I just think Charlie Sheen is a bit of a douche.
I hate being sick.
I mean on the plus side, I get to spend the rest of this week surviving on a diet of mint icecream and lemon tea. But then there's the minus side - like the fact that I'll have to get up and go to work tomorrow, and everyone who calls to make an appointment is going to wonder why a hormonal 12-year-old boy is answering the phone at Toni&Guy. Because in the brief periods that I can actually get my voice to work, that's what I sound like. Testy-Pops and all. Trust me to be female and the only human being on the planet suffering through Testy-Pops without any of the fun of actual testicles. Or at least, what I'm ASSUMING to be fun about actual testicles. Although now that I think about it, having them doesn't seem like that much fun. Especially having them on the outside. I sure am glad to have a vagina, is basically what I'm trying to say.
On a completely unrelated note, something wonderful happened this past weekend. And I'm not talking about my discovery of the world's best sandwich filling combination. Well...I'm not just talking about that. Sidenote: cheese, lettuce, sweet chilli sauce and grilled whiting on grain bread = INCREDIBLE. But what I actually meant was my sister and The Navy Man moving to Sydney. And moreso, the fact that I was able to drive from their new base to my house without getting lost once. And moreso than THAT, the fact that somewhere between picking him up from the airport, driving him back to my house, and then dropping him off at an undisclosed location, I gave The Navy Man some of my throat sickness.
So now we both sound like 12-year-old boys. And it's hilarious.