They say that memories come flooding back to you through your nose. I'd like to believe they were lying, or that that would someday be the most believable thing. Every now and again something does come through a channel, but it usually stops short. Experiences enter through bifurcated nozzles, but don't seem to coalesce to make memories.
A Bad nose is the mark of a bad way. I wake up most morning pretending to regret a couple of things, but mostly just wishing my nose worked. Water is never enough. Down the gullet, but not a drop comes of it. Maybe I should drink Draino in the morning, and stick with vitamins at night.