(movies i fell asleep to this weekend)

Ugh. I caught the flu, you guys. It seems more accurate to say that the flu caught me, though. Pretty sure it caught me while I was in Atlanta last weekend and waited, dormant, to sink its evil vampire fangs into me and ruin my life.

So now I’m going to tell you about my horrible weekend of horribleness, because this is my blog and I do what I want.

I was feeling fine when I woke up Wednesday morning, but around 3 that day I started feeling that heavy-headed weirdness that signifies the beginning of a miserable cold. I figured I was just allergic to my office (this tends to happen… oh, every time I go into my office) so I stayed home sick on Thursday. I should’ve known when I was hysterically crying over a not-that-sad TV episode on Thursday night that I was in for it.

On Friday, I woke up, and I thought I was already dead. I felt dizzy and my joints hurt and I couldn’t keep anything down — even water. I spent basically the entire day hugging my toilet bowl, calling my mom crying, and tweeting about my misery. I passed out in the shower! It was really super terrible.

There is no time that being a grown up sucks more than when you’re sick. When you’re a kid and you get sick, it’s like, STOP EVERYTHING! That geometry test will have to wait! For you are sick! And then you stay home in bed and you watch people argue over paternity results on Maury and your mom takes care of EVERYTHING. She changes your sheets when you’re sweaty and she cleans up your barf (thanks mom!) and she calls the school and she picks up your prescriptions and she makes sure you have water and she tells you to turn off Maury because it’s trash and it will rot your brain.

When you’re a grown up, you have to do all these things BY YOURSELF. You have to clean up YOUR OWN BARF. My bathroom flooded while I napped in the shower (because of COURSE I was blocking the drain with my foot, of cooooourse) and so I had to clean up like three inches of water in between all the horribleness. And I kept thinking, “If mom were here…”

Yesterday, I had to go to urgent care because I was running a crazy high fever and I probably had been for three days. When I got there, they stuck an IV in me to rehydrate me, and then they gave me motrin, and then they told me that I couldn’t drive myself home. Seriously. I drove THERE, but they were like “You’re very feverish, and if you’re dizzy, you should really have someone pick you up.” Again, I really missed my mommy.

I probably should have called a friend, but I scrolled through my phone book and made excuses for every single person I could call. “He’s probably busy.” “She lives far away.” “I flaked out last time I made plans with her.” I hate asking other people to do stuff for me. So I called a cab. (Paying people to do stuff for me is A-okay.)

Then I got home and looked at my bed, which I had been sitting in, sweaty and snotty, for two days, and I just COULD NOT get back in there. So I put my sheets and pillowcases and blankets and quilt in the laundry, but carrying everything to the laundry room was exhausting, so I went to sleep on the couch, and when I woke up, some douche had taken all of my stuff out of the laundry and put it, sopping wet, on top of the machines, so I had to clean it again because who knows what else has been on those machines. (This is WeHo. The vending machines in our gym sell condoms. You have to assume that every single surface has been, at one time or another, covered in bodily fluids.)

Again, wishing I was at my mom’s house, where nobody has sex ever (except the three times my sisters and I were conceived through a hole in the sheet) and where the laundry does not cost $1.50 but only accept $5 bills. Laundry at my mom’s house is FREE. Also, she does it, not me, unless I am trying to show up my sisters for some reason.

You don’t even want to know how many times I had to sit down and take a break while I was trying to make my bed. I have too many blankets. They look so pretty all folded up together, but seriously, I should just get one giant one and be done with it.

Finally, I got in my bed, and fell asleep, and then my dog went psychotic. He barked his head off and started RUNNING all around my room, crashing into things and splashing through his water bowl and nearly knocking over my birdcage. He needed to be walked and played with, because for 48 hours I’d been barely acknowledging him and he’s just a little puppy and doesn’t understand what it means when people are sick. So I took him out and sat on the steps outside my apartment while he ran around as much as the leash would let him, and the hot guy who lives down the hall but totally doesn’t swing my way walked by and asked me if I was okay because I’d “looked better.” Thanks, pal, I hate you now.

The worst part about being a sick grown up? I STILL HAD TO WORK. Yes, this was my weekend to be on editorial duty at work, so in my feverish misery, I wrote 27 articles, mostly about Justin Bieber and the Kardashians, because I couldn’t be bothered to write stuff I actually give a crap about. My coworker Andrea covered for me on Saturday night because I couldn’t keep my eyes open for one more minute, but other than that… working, vomiting, working, sleeping, vomiting, working. IT SUCKED. When you’re a kid, “Sorry, I didn’t do my homework because I was attached to a saline drip” is totally a valid excuse.

I woke up feeling better today (my fever’s gone!) so I went to get my car from the doctor’s office (where obviously I had to pay for overnight parking, even though it was against my will) and then I went to Target dressed like a homeless person with terrible hair (even for a homeless person) because I was out of conditioner and I really wanted Mindy Kaling’s new book.

All weekend, all I kept thinking was how awesome it would be if I had an assistant who I could call and be like “Go! Get me Mindy Kaling’s new book!” and they would and I would read it and it would probably cure me because laughter is the best medicine.

TARGET WAS OUT OF MINDY KALING’S NEW BOOK. IT HAD KRIS JENNER’S. BUT NOT MINDY KALING’S.

This was my last straw. I was too worn out to go try Barnes & Noble, especially because it’s pouring rain and rain makes people in Los Angeles turn into apocalypse zombies. I’m now back in my bed, typing very violently, because it is just not fair that I was forced to become an adult against my will.

On the plus side, I ate half a bagel today and didn’t barf it up.

My dog ate the other half while I was in the shower. He DID barf his up. So, I got out the carpet spray and cleaned it up. Because he’s just a kid and I’m his mom and that’s what moms do.

i will sleep above the covers
i will love you like no other
i will be your dad and mother
i will give you older brothers
i will feed you fries with steak sauce
i will keep the price below cost
i will lead the way from all is lost
i will keep the bad things from you
the damnwells :: i will keep the bad things from you

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