This weekend I had some weird stomach bug that wasn't as serious as the flu, but also wasn't exactly a picnic. I've graduated since Saturday from only being able to keep down dry toast to eating a bagel w/ peanut butter and a yogurt over the course of today, so things are getting better all the time. A few weeks ago I was a different kind of sick that involved tears-level pain and prescription medications. I'm a classy lady, so I won't elaborate any further on either of these illnesses, but suffice to say, I'm sick of being sick.
Now, the only time I feel any acute pain related to more or less living alone (bunny is useless when it comes to paying rent or getting the mail), is when I'm sick. Or when I'm moving into a new apartment and need to dis- and re-assemble a futon, that sucks too. Anyway, when I'm sick I spend most of this time under a pile of blankets on said futon with a bottle of Aleve, surrounded by DVDs and empty cans of Ginger ale. I usually don't call people just to tell them that I don't feel good, cuz that's a downer and nobody likes downers. The self-indulgent FB status update about being sick is always useful though, because people have to want to know "what you're doing" so it's not really bothering them with the info, just giving them what they are asking for by logging on. Then you get to collect sympathy in the process, it's awesome. But I don't use FB right now.
Instead I was left to suffer in silence, and inexplicably pick movies that mirrored how I feel. This weekend I watched Precious, Monsters vs. Aliens, Up in the Air and The Wrestler. Notice anything? All. About. Loners, and all with mixed endings so I get to choose my own adventure from an Aleve-induced haze. Could be a life of loneliness in the clouds, or one of redemption on the streets of late 1980s New York...Obviously the best adventure was being a ginormous beyatch with crazy mega strength, cuz that way I could fight off super germs and put together my own damn futon.
The End.
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