Aegra sum. Je suis malade.
Nope, not H1N1 flu, thankfully: this time it’s bronchitis. I went by Health Services today, and now have drugs that are supposed to make me better. I hope they work. Quickly. (Come on, immune system, try harder!) Forget about missing classes and work, I’m going through dance withdrawal.
Health Services is a fascinating place. Because of the current rash of flu cases, everyone with a potential flu-like illness is required to put on a mask when entering the building. Being told, “You can take off the mask now, I don’t think you have the flu,” is a surprisingly liberating moment.
Being sick has its advantages, I suppose. In another week, I will have finished filming the new greatest thing in ab workouts: The Deep Chest Cough Master! Just 15 minutes every hour, guaranteed to produce results!*
*Not recommended for those with fragile ribs.
Marvin, because of his greater mobility, is the android of choice this week. He was so shocked that he’s been continuously hyperventilating for the past twelve hours. I guess he’s afraid to fall asleep for fear he’ll wake up and find out his hard drive has been wiped.
Trust me, self-imposed quarantine in a 10 x 15-foot room with Marvin is not ideal for low-key rest and recuperation. I’ve tried to explain to him that computers can’t catch bronchitis, but he’s obsessively virus scanning and updating nonetheless – “just to make sure.”
is enjoying some quality snuggle time with his power outlet.)
Ah, life… Ah, irony… Ah, grad school…