Still With The Phlegm

I am still sick with whatever recent pestilence I managed to contract, which extra-special annoys me when I go to such lengths to avoid the general public. This is a particularly nasty dose, which reached its most powerful on Wednesday night when I was at my friend's house. It struck me the other day that I barely even remember being there, probably not so much because of the fever but because of how distracted I was with my skyrocketing body temperature and the feeling of having been beaten around the neck and shoulders with a crowbar. I stayed home Thursday and worked about half a day on Friday, and I still don't feel very good. I'm a big baby when I'm sick, but I hate hate hate super hate having a cough, and this is a bad one.

Nevertheless I managed to have a reasonably okay weekend which was even great in some parts. I stayed in on Friday and nursed my stupid cough, and then went to the patio at Melt on Saturday to take advantage of the beautiful weather. I shared a super bottle of Amarone later that night while I laid on a borrowed couch and watched the Olympics on a borrowed cable signal. Sunday I napped, cleaned my bathroom, watched an okay movie and then reclaimed my seat on the borrowed couch to watch more Olympic swimming, and holy Mary was it ever worth it. Plus, I hate to be a pathetic slavering Cosmopolitan stereotype about it, but it is quite gratifying to watch men's swimming in HD, if you know what I mean.

This week is going to be annoying because I will have to do work, a lot of it, and I don't feel 100%, and I am tired of coughing and of dealing with people, but as I march ever closer to vacation (46 days and counting!) it becomes more difficult to be truly bogged down in the mundanity of both my job and other people's nonsense. This week when I do laundry I will wash my new beach towels and think about laying on warm sand. Distraction FTW!