Hej Då, Sverige: Pt. 2

Ok, so I was only planning on posting once a day, but TMI WARNING I am currently keeled over in pain from cramps and I exceeded my Aleve limit at like, 11 AM, and I am wearing my parachute pants and oversized tank top and sitting at my desk trying to write this essay while clutching my stomach in a ovulation-driven vice grip and groaning every once in a while. It's a sad scene tonight in Helmuts, folks. I was about to accept my Lady Fate (ATTN: new term for PMS, I expect each and every one of you to make it happen*) when I realized that, lo and behold, I had one more of these magical little packets leftover from Stockholm:

Hej Då, Sverige, Pt. 2: Paracetamol Tea

I'm not sure if paracetamol is available in the US; if it is, I haven't seen it, nor have I consciously used it. I'm an Aleve girl myself, and I don't trust any other painkillers. Having fallen ill in Stockholm (damn you, Stockholm!), however, and confronted with shelf upon shelf upon shelf of indiscernible medications ("Is this my head cold talking, or do none of these labels make sense?"), I wasn't given much of a choice. Mustering what little voice I had and wiping away the snot from my general face area just long enough to ask the pharmacist what I should take, he recommended Panodil Paracetamol Pulver, a blackberry menthol powder to be made into a tea. Ta-da!

Isn't she lovelyyyyyyy

At first, I hated the stuff. Loathed it. Abhorred everything about it. It would take me an hour to force down a mug of it. Blackberries are great and menthol is amazing, but together, they are a shockingly jarring flavor combination. It's like: BLACKBERRY. MENTHOL. GRIMACE. REPEAT. The more I drank it, though, the more I didn't hate it. In fact, by the time I left for Amsterdam four days later, I was chugging cups of it at the airport like it was a Dav Dirty Soy Chai before an 8:30 AM chemistry exam. Why, you ask? Because paracetamol is magic. It's like a cross between a cough drop and an IV drip of Demerol. The menthol soothes any nose/throat issues you're having and just generally makes you feel refreshed and minty, the paracetamol numbs you not only physically, but mentally as well, leaving you just loopy enough to not notice any residual pain, and the blackberry adds a fun little pizazz to the whole mixture. Fruity! I am drinking a giant mug of it right now, and I already feel a million times better. And sleepier. Mmmm.

Good god, I love that mug. It was a Secret Santa gift from Tara because she knew how much I missed oversized hot beverage portions from all the Amurrrrrrica bitching I'd been doing, and it might be my most prized possession here? Like, the one thing I'd grab if there were a fire, which is actually pretty probable, considering how many Spaniards there are living in my building who feel the need to smoke to in their apartments/the hallway while speaking with a lisp? The mug is bigger than my face, but then again, paracetamol is bigger than all of us. 

There's an ever-growing list of things I need to take back to the States, and blackberry-menthol paracetamol tea is definitely making the cut. In the spirit of Oprah, you're all getting a box (holler in the comments!). You get paracetamol tea! You get paracetamol tea! EVERYBODY GETS SOME TEA! 

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