Diagnosis

I can't speak. Which means I either have laryngitis OR one of you is exceptionally skilled with the voodoo doll. These are the only explanations I can think of. I have already ruled out heavy smoking and free-basing as I usually save those activities for the summer months. Also, many of you may not know this, but one of the lesser-known (and incredibly embarrassing) symptoms of laryngitis is crying like a baby during a community college jazz choir's a capella rendition of Billy Joel's "So it goes." Another symptom is making others uncomfortable with my silence. "Are you mad at me?" Silence. "Are we fighting?" Silence. "Paper or plastic?" Silence. Stay tuned for tomorrow's series of whiny posts as I plan to stay home and record my misery in a special stream of consciousness blog.