On Wednesday night last week, I was in a bit of a panic. I went to the corner store to buy some soda, and still had to flirt with the (not-so-pretty) girl at the cash register. (She slipped me her phone number, too, but failed to write her name -- so that makes her "Cash Register Girl" in my contact book.)

So with the urge to flirt still there, and me unable to repress it, I knew it was going to be a problem going to work on Thursday morning. At least, if I wanted to keep my job. So I went to bed on Wednesday night, hoping for some kind of miracle cure for my "condition."

And as luck would have it, my wish was granted. I woke up on Thursday morning, with a very sore throat and feeling feverish. I couldn't make it to work, so I called in sick. Friday, I was feeling a bit better, but then realized my voice was completely gone. I was able to go to the office, but because I couldn't talk, nothing too corny came out of my mouth and I made it safely through the day, on to the weekend.

My voice came back only on Sunday. I was able to go eat out at the nearby McDonald's, then headed out to catch a movie. The urge to flirt was still there, but at least it was no one I knew.

Until I ran into Brooke, who was coming out of the theater, hanging on to Roseanne's arm.

But that's a story for another time...