The Crappy Poet

I'm a twenty-something edging past newlywed and new dog owner. I run, write, I work. What else is there besides the struggle to overcome all of that and make something of myself...


Bring on the 'Tussin

So, in the midst of a dehabilitating illness, I sit at the kitchen table, staring down my childhood disgust of cough medicine. I have in front of me a tiny shooter of Robutussin, along with my Sprite chaser. My husband asks why don't I just take it, and I tell him that I have to work up to it.

"How did I ever do shots in college?" I ask him, staring at the thick, red stuff, knowing in advance that it will taste bad.

"Well, it's a whole different atmosphere," He says. I think about this.

"Can you sit here with me and pound the table and scream, 'DRINK!DRINK!DRINK!' while I take it?"


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