Cookies, Cocaine, and Hospitals

I got a phone call on Wednesday morning from a detective who told me I'd been sent a suspicious package. After I asked a few clarifying questions, he told me FedEx had reported it as leaking a "suspicious substance" and that he and two other detectives were driving to my house to deliver it.

Then he asked if he had my permission to open the box, specifying that "if it's anything illegal we have to take it." I consented, and he told me that the suspicious package was a box of rainbow sprinkle cookies sent to me by my thoughtful friends Broti and Katie:

Clearly drugs and explosives, right?

Then, that afternoon, I ended up in the hospital after a panicked nurse at the Minute Clinic told me that my airway was being obstructed by a tonsillar abscess. After a very cold trip to the E.R., the nurses and doctors told me that it was just a rough case of tonsillitis and that I'd probably contract it not infrequently from here on out. They gave me the good drugs for pains and fever and infections and sent me on my way.

That's all I've got for now. There's plenty more to write about—there always is—but to cop a phrase from T.S. Eliot (whose hometown I'm about to visit!), "there will be time, there will be time."