Sunday, October 13, 2002

Sick

Woke up this morning and could hardly breathe out of my nose. There are no more tissues left in the box. I have an oral report to do tomorrow on whether or not Monty Python and the Holy Grail is a successful adaptation of the Arthurian Legend, and I'm going to sound like a squeaky foghorn, or some sort of tiny elephant... I think I have a fever too. Oh well. At least the boyfriend is being supportive. Here I am hooting into big wads of Kleenex with mascara smears under my eyes like Alice Cooper and he still thinks I'm beautiful. Go figure. Personally, I think it's because he didn't have his glasses on when he saw me this morning, and then when he put them on it was too late to take it back. Ah well. I don't really care. I think I'm gonna go pour echinacea (sp?) down my throat and cuddle up on a beanbag. Maybe I'll watch Harold and Maude.

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