Higher Math ...

So, in addition to my cold, the doctor at the oh-so-lovely urgent care center where I spent my Saturday morning tells me that I have an ear infection. So I take my prescription for 20 pills to the local Rite-Aid. I come home and find that I have only ten pills. I call them, they remember my nasally voice, and tell me to come back to get the other ten. I tell them I will come later. And I do. They give me the new prescription. I resist my neurotic urge to count the pills in the store. Surely no pharmacist would miscount ten pills, right? I come home. I count the pills. All eight of them. I go back yet again. Seriously. Makes me worry.

In other news, last night C. and I decided to recover from our most recent final by going out to see the lights at the D.C. Temple. On the way we stopped at a delicious pizza place by the National Cathedral, and we strolled over to check out the cathedral, too, to cover as many religions as possible in one night. (OK, so we just covered two. But still.) As C. so wittily quoted my new favorite speech-giver, "We need the prayers of all faiths to get through these finals." And we do. C., for the record, also has a cold. But she kindly listens to me complain as though I am the only person in the world ever to have such an ailment ...