In which I am mucusy and sweaty and long-winded.

I have had a cold this week. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? It goes by the monikers Cold of Death, The Sinus Crusher, and, occasionally, Snot Doggy Dogg.

I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.

Yesterday, though, I finally remembered my friend Sherrie’s comments about how when she’s sick, hot and sour soup is the only ticket to health. So, My Guy and I went to the home of the world’s greatest hot and sour soup: Fire Wok.

Or, as we usually call it, “You Know, That Place That’s Always Closed.” Which seems to have caught on as the official moniker, despite the fact that I really tried to get “Fire Crotch” to catch on, just because it made me laugh.

You Know, That Place That’s Always Closed has the best hot and sour soup. And really? It has an awesome buffet, too. They are open from 11-2 and 5-8, weekdays only. Never on the weekends. And really? You have to be a really good restaurant to survive being open for only, like, half an hour every week.


So, last night, the hot and sour soup from You Know, That Place That’s Always Closed made my nose run and my lip sweat. And then I felt better! And so, today, after work? I stopped by and got not one but two servings of soup to go. Yes, I gorged myself on two bowls of hot and sour soup for dinner. It was the best dinner ever! And my nose ran and I got sweaty … and I’m thinking I will triumph over this cold.

And yeah, that’s the excitement here.

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