Congestion: (adj) a condition of the respiratory tract being blocked with mucus

Trials would never get the chance to be tribulations if we were granted the privilege of planning them instead of being surprised by their arrival.

Honestly, I think I could survive almost anything if I could pencil it in on my calendar in advance, and then build all my activities around
preparing for it.

This is the ridiculous part about those who believe in destiny.

Life is clear–it favors chaos. If we actually believe there’s a Divine Order, we logically must conclude that this God-force is schizophrenic.

I had one moment in my life when I wish I had been given the opportunity to select the time slot for my cold.

I would have chosen one week later to be congested–and gladly swallowed the nasty concoctions that are supposed to make me feel better, but actually only cause drowsiness.

My congestion arrived a week early.

My new book had been released, and I was supposed to speak to a large crowd of people, using the event as a launch for my campaign. My bronchitis, croup and laryngitis arrived when I was appearing in a large auditorium, premiering my new album.

I ran what I called the gamut of five:

• I prayed
• I sprayed (everything I could think of, to open up my throat)
• I complained
• I tried every home remedy known to humans.
• And finally, I foolishly went to my events–with no voice.

Well, you can imagine, it went just about as well as it sounds like it would go. The congestion was in control.

Should I have just cancelled instead of giving it the “good old college try?”

I don’t know. My experience is that the “good old college try” often leaves you flunking out in disgrace.

 

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