So look, cut me some slack. It’s been a rough week: between work trauma and being sick enough to miss a full day of work for the first time in I don’t know how long, this wasn’t very bloggy week for me. Well, not here, anyway; I was happy to pursue titillating inquiries into American Idol contestants over at DCist.
I did manage to fail to implement a cool webcam thing I was working on, as well as managing to not get Arcade Fire tickets (iCal reminders don’t work, apparently). I know, quite a week.
But I didn’t just sit around complaining! I did other things, too. Ever since Jeff told me that my beloved zinc tables were probably destroying my brain I’ve been looking for a new pseudoscientific way to recover from colds. But nothing plausible and affordable had come along, and I was ill again — I found myself lowering my standards. I was getting sicker and more suggestible by the day.
That’s when I heard this NPR report. Nasal irrigation? Sure! Why not?
So yes, the deal is that you squirt warm, salty water up your nose. And yes, I realize that this may seem kind of embarrassing and gross. But the NPR people made it sound great! I was convinced that if I took this one simple step I would feel refreshed and recovered; have a more resonant, stentorian voice; and might attain a new level of consciousness and/or be able to shoot bolts of energy from my fingertips. It’d be like Scientology, except available at CVS. At the very least I wouldn’t have to sniffle and sneeze quite as much. That was the hope, anyway. But you don’t have to take my word for these incredible benefits — just look how happy the girl on the box is:
Well, I tried it. The actual experience was less unpleasant than you might expect. But aside from the fulfillment of that promise, it’s a total crock. I didn’t feel any better immediately afterward, and the next day things had actually gotten quite a bit worse. Maybe I should have taken the box’s entreaties that I boil the District’s tap water a bit more seriously.
Anyway, it may be unrelated, but I currently have no sense of smell. It’s a little weird — I can breathe perfectly normally, but I can’t smell anything at all. Waving a bottle of scotch under my nose produces absolutely no effect, and I was only able to tell that I was in a smoky bar by virtue of my watering eyes.
I’m confident that my sense of smell will eventually come back, but for now it’s sort of neat to be working solely off of my sense of taste. Things are salty, sweet, sour or bitter, and that’s about it. Food’s a little boring, but the cheapest booze at a bar now tastes the same as top shelf. Call it a wash.