I’m a snotty, feverish mess.
If this were 1915, I would probably be dead. “T’ was a cold that did her in. Her nose ran and ran until the Lord took her in his sweet embrace.” I don’t think that’s at all dramatic. It’s probably historically accurate. People died from stubbing their toe back then. My current state translates to Make-a-Wish kid status back then.
I consider it an achievement that I showered today. How I made it to work, is a miracle.
At least this bout of sickness isn’t as bad as the time I had a fever so high, I hallucinated Guns n’ Roses playing “Paradise City” in my living room. I was around twenty-one at the time and started to cry because the band wouldn’t play another song. Luckily, I had the third season of Orange is the New Black to keep me company this weekend. I stayed in bed, wiped my nose on my pajamas and watched seven episodes until I slipped into a NyQuil induced coma.
I won’t post any spoilers, but are y’all watching?
I feel like the show found it’s rhythm again. Season 2 was really… meeeehhhhh. This season is already funnier, wittier and has a lot less Piper, which makes me really happy. Plus, Ruby Rose. I mean. She’s hot.
My only complaint: a serious lack of Pornstache. If I have to keep re-watching Pablo Schreiber’s scary story arc on Law & Order: SVU where he plays a sadistic rapist one more time, I think I’ll need to put myself on a 72 hour psych-evaluation. It’s unhealthy, but I need my fix!
Speaking of fixes, I need tea.
and a pillow.