I’ve been sick the past two days. And I mean sick. There’s some nasty shit residing in my nasal passages. It’s terrible being sick when you live by yourself. Especially when you don’t have a dishwasher. I mean, you’re using dishes to make tea and oatmeal — two of the few things that don’t irritate the gravel that has been living in my throat — but you don’t want to stand up long enough to wash the dishes when you need spoons. You run out of tissues, but you don’t feel enough in control of your faculties to drive to the market to buy more. My nose can only take so much toilet paper, dude.
Today was better though. Not only am I feeling better, but my friend Anne loaned me her copy of Sixteen Candles, which — deep breath — I had never seen before. Too many delicious lines to quote! Too many great characters! Too unfathomable that John and Joan Cusack have fewer lines COMBINED than an actor named Michael Schoeffling!
Nothin’ says staying home sick like John Hughes.