Everybody seems to bring their "ho" clothes to Vegas so maybe it was the scandalous outfits I saw folks wearing this past weekend that left me speechless.

Literally speechless. I can't talk. Or rather, I can talk a little bit, except my voice ends up sounding like some ultra-whispery phone-sex operator, or what I imagine that sounds like since I've never talked to one before.

How did this overnight laryngitis happen to me? Well, the lady behind the deli-counter in Barstow had her super scientific theory as to how my laryngitis came into being.

"You must have won some big money and done too much hollering in Vegas!"

I think she was waiting for me to tell her, "Yes, I won a thousand dollars!" Except, no, I don't gamble.

I don't know how it happened. I just can't talk and it's definitely frustrating. Try calling your salon and booking an appointment with your hairdresser. "What day do you want to come in? I can't hear you."

If you think that's bad, I just tried to order a soy chai in a Starbucks and the lady behind the counter had to ask me to write it down because she couldn't hear me.

Maybe I this is a sign that I need to stop running my mouth so much and instead listen more.


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