Life in a velvet fog

No one wants a speech therapist with a voice disorder. Thanks to a funky sinus thing, I have one.

I got one day of the sexy Kathleen Turner circa Body Heat sound, then went straight into scratchy, pitch-breaking, fog horn sound. Everyone I talk to says "Wow, you're sick". I'm not, I feel just fine. My mom hurried me off the phone last night 'cause it hurt to listen to me. I sound, in a word, gross.

Maybe I'll brush up on my sign language...

The picture is, of course, the sign language proficient Koko with Mr. Rogers. This must be why Al Gore invented the internet.