I’m home sick today with a form of plague that I caught merely because I was congratulating myself the other day for not having caught the plague despite said plague’s infestation among my coworkers, and that’ll teach me to be self-congratulatory. I mean, I also caught it because of germs. Germs: they know when you’re getting a little too proud of your immune system.
I’d really rather not be home today, because I have a lot to get done before the holiday weekend, and I keep thinking about it, all the stuff I need to get done that I am not getting done. This is having a negative effect on my ability to take a nap. But it’s okay, because I have Netflix, whose selection of streaming movies is just great. It’s currently recommending that I watch a documentary about Bernie Madoff, and doesn’t that sound like a totally perfect sick day movie? It’s also recommending “Critically-Acclaimed Visually-Striking Gritty Movies” which I don’t think is even a genre outside of Mad Libs.
I’d also rather not be home today because I’d prefer to be busy, as this time of year, specifically this week when Thanksgiving comes, is a convergence of things I remember and things I’m going through currently, and were I to draw a Venn Diagram of it, it would be called Things That Bum Me Out. All the sets in this Venn Diagram I’ve just drawn in my head (because it’s not like I’m getting out of bed to get a piece of paper and a pen) intersect this week. So, you know, I’m not exactly appreciative of the extra time on my hands, but life has funny timing, and in an attempt to be positive (as opposed to being a grumpy motherfucker, which, when I’m sick, is my wont), I’m going to accept the fact that I’m a little sad right now because it’s okay to have feelings, since I’m a human and not a robot. But I’m not going to wallow just because I presently have plenty of time to do so. See? I learned things in all that therapy I went to for all those years after all.
Anyway, I woke up with this song in my head this morning:
I bet you miss your friends.
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