I find myself weirdly obsessed with oranges. And vitamin C. I think it's because of the general plague feeling this winter has consisted of.
I've never really loved oranges in the past. I'm an instant gratification kinda gal, and peeling them when the pith gets all under the nails was not very instant-y gratification-y. And, God, if seeds are involved. Yet I don't feel the same way about tangerines. The skin is different. It peels like paper without the soft insulation in between.
So oranges have been my fruit of choice lately. Lots and lots of oranges, or rather, one a day (like an apple. Except oranges. And there I go comparing).
This is, perhaps, not unusual. Except I'm also downing packets of Emergen-C in water every day, too. The Evil Co-Worker recommended it and as she has been less sick than me. With the last illness, I'm willing to try anything. And...it's kind of working. Goddamn Evil Co-Worker with her magic packets of B-12 and vitamins in an effervescent, foul-tasting decoction.
However, I also suspect I am saturating myself with Vitamin C and soon I will become an Oompa-Loompa (obviously this is based on sound medical science. And not random musings I think about instead of my dissertation).
I can probably deal with that. Oompa-Loompas don't have to turn in dissertations. I don't think.
Perhaps I am making unfounded assumptions about the Oompa-Loompa as a people. Perhaps all the vitamin C has finally pickled my brain.
Perhaps.
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