although "visiting the westin gift shop and buying enough benadryl to drug yourself into a deep, dreamless sleep" would normally top my list, the fact that a bag of almond m&ms cost me $5 there left my wallet a little light.

instead, i have so far sampled and would recommend:

• walking around what may be the most depressingly mistitled "mixed-use development" in the U.S.

• buying a bag of peach gummi rings which turn out to be disappointingly UN-sour, despite the deceptive ingredients of citric acid, fumaric acid, sodium citrate, and tartaric acid - all of which sound pretty damned sour to me.

• exploring the "shopping district", which contains a gymboree, casual corner outlet, and a subway in the food court. i expected but did not find a dress barn woman or a jo-ann fabrics.

• returning to your room to contemplate why you insisted on waiting until 7 pm to have dinner.

ah, i love my job.

i admit i haven't taken biology in like 45 years, so maybe i learned this once ... but i always wonder the same thing about allergies that i do about being near-sighted: how could something so miserably pointless possibly be an adaptive trait?

so what's saving me is not the medication with the stupidest name on record. note: pharma company rubric - willingness to pay for a drug rises exponentially with scrabble value of its name.

after a trip to cvs today, i am again in possession best thing ever: liquid children's benadryl. that's right. 100% synthetic-fruit-bubblegum awesomeness inside these little hollow things that i think are supposed to be spoons. take two! take four! who cares - they're kiddie doses, right?!

side effects include passing out into deep REM sleep within seconds of boarding the bus home and waking up at S Street with a big smile on your face just in time to stop yourself from loudly saying something insane.