Like anything else in Italy, the mail system here likes to run on its own time. Which means that my teeny tiny box of medicine is stuck somewhere between Ohio, Italian customs and my mailbox.No more medicine means some pretty tripy side effects. Like my head moves and my brain sort of follows on its own time. And standing up means getting one hell of a head rush. Which, you know, I would normally be into, but it gives my downward facing dog a whole new meaning.
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