No, it’s more like a million leks, or maybe a million Zambian kwachas (not to be confused with Malawi’s kwacha) or maybe it’s more like a fistful of hryvnias. Anyway you slice it, I still feel like a sweaty, gassy, George the Animal Steele is sitting on my chest. Fortunately, my cold medicine vision quest is coming to an end. Last night, I dreamed I was at a hospital where all the nurses were Helen Thomas, and they were looking for love in all the wrong places.