Ooooh, dears, I have caught The Sick something awful.
I spent all day yesterday and today indoors, camped out on my futon, reading, drinking tea, and eating pizza.* I believe I will do the same tomorrow, because I doubt that my boss wants me infecting his office with my million-sneezes-a-minute and my endless groaning. I feel like total crap.
I have several things I am supposed to do tonight, but I do not want to do any of them. Unfortunately, they all somehow involve saying goodbye to one of my best friends, who is hopping a plane tomorrow morning and likely won't be back for another three years. It seems I will either have to steal a car, or bus around the city for a good hour until this mission is complete. Of course, I may die from The Fever or The Sick, but that's what I get for having a friend who lives to damn far away. And not that he ever read this blog, but honey, MOVE BACK HOME PLEASE.
Reading about Zoom's new cat, Duncan Donut, makes me want a bulldog and a kitty more than ever. I figure if I get them both at the same time, they can be friends. Perhaps this is unreasonable, but life is too short to be reasonable all the time.
Just now, I started doubting my ability to leave the house to see my friend off. This might make me a bad friend, but I did fly to Colombia to see him get married. Does that exempt me from my duties tonight? Probably not. But my head is pounding. And I have used up an entire roll of toilet paper today trying to soak up my poor face.
*In case you have a keen memory for detail and you remember that I generally do not eat the cheese, wheat or meat that most people love about pizza, I say this: I made the dough all by myself, with spelt flour, and covered the pizza with chard, onions and goat cheese. Talk about healthing up a guilty indulgence.