Oh hey, adulthood...

Today, I spent the day on the couch, getting better acquainted with daytime TV (at one point there were three different episodes of Seinfeld on at the same time), but at 2PM, I received a phone call.
I went and looked at a one-bedroom place on Monday, and the landlord had called to tell me that he had decided that I was the best candidate (for once, my "charm" actually worked on someone).

So, with my fever downgraded from 'fried egg on forehead' to 'mildly toasty', I bundled myself up and headed off to sign my very first solo lease. The landlord, who couldn't have been any older than 30, and I walked through the place again, and talked about the terms and conditions of the lease. He told me it's cool if I paint (awesome), and he said that "smoking is allowed, so long as it's not cigarettes or cigars", and then he winked at me. I gave him a good wink back on that one. I get your drift, dude.

The poor guy had to stand around for the longest time while I fumbled through writing the cheques. After not eating any solid foods for almost four days, my brain is not at it's finest right now (brains needs calories to work, son).

Say hello to Bankview's newest resident.... The only thing left is to trick someone into giving me a job that pays a proper wage, and I think that real adulthood may be just around the corner (juuuuust joking, you guys know me better than that).

~sarah p.

p.s. I'm feeling a little bit better tonight, but am left with a cough that literally skyrockets me into the "least attractive person in the world" category. My apologies to anyone that has to spend any amount of time around me this weekend.

Grape Slurpees and Nyquil.

It had been almost three months since I've gotten sick, which is the very longest I've gone since the whole Lyme's Disease fiasco of '05. However, all good things must come to an end, and I've been delirious with fever for the past couple of days. I woke up Monday feeling kinda funny, but due to my regular weekend overindulgences, a lot of Mondays I feel a little "off". It wasn't until I got a note from my dear friend Pickle, stating that he was feeling pretty under the weather, that I started to question whether or not I was getting sick. He woke up Sunday morning with a fever and chills, and by Monday night, I was shaking and sweating myself.
I went to work on Tuesday morning (but mainly because I had to fax off a rental application) and stayed for less than an hour. I spent the day in a Nyquil-induced haze. This morning, I was sure I was going to feel better, but even after putting together a nice medicine cocktail, I was still in rough shape. However, due to severe understaffing , and a solidly-booked day, I had no choice but to head into work. Several times today, I passed by people that I should have said hi to, but my head was so foggy that I almost didn't recognize them. I called an adult patient a 'little turkey', and slept on the floor of the office on my lunchbreak. I'm not going into work tomorrow, no matter what. I don't assume I'll be at my current job for much longer, so I may as well use up those paid sick-days while I still can.

Point is, if I've given you a blank stare, or called you a strange name in the past couple of days, then I apologize. Any medication with "quil" at the end is a recipe for disaster.

Tonight, I'm not doing anything more intensive than trying to finish this grape slurpee that I've been working on for two days now. If somebody wants to come over and rub my achy muscles, then that would be pretty cool. Thanks.

~sarah p.

p.s. Big ups to all of my other sick peeps. Feel better soon, comrades.