Cleolinda Jones (cleolinda) wrote,
Cleolinda Jones

Oh my God, I feel like I've been hit by a truck.

So, after ascertaining that Luis Guzmán is nowhere near, I slip downstairs for another slice of the Pizza of Dreams and discover Sister Girl studying for her sauce exam. (I go to get some tea and the refrigerator is full of red wine and Gruyère. It's like France exploded in our fridge.) She's just transmogrified espagnole into demi-glace, and Mom is helping her get the béchamel started, and I get the hell out of there.

I go to bed early. Suileabháin's diagnosis is consumption, and he may not be far wrong.

Sister Girl drives off to Cullman to meet Boyfriend halfway from Huntsville, blah blah still don't like him blah. Mom wakes me up to tell me that she's going to call me when she turns around to come home, because I'm the one who will... be up... late...?

One o'clock: She calls me. Great. Zzzzzz.

One-forty: OMG OMG OMG could I PLEASE come outside to the car and help her bring stuff inside because Boyfriend and his friends just called her and said that they had just seen a UFO, and it was making jet sounds, and people in UFO stories report seeing six white lights AND GUESS WHAT IT HAD OMG SIX WHITE LIGHTS WTF!!

Cleo: "Are you sure it wasn't... just... a jet with six white lights?"

Sister Girl: *cries*

I was going to argue that, if it was in fact an alien spaceship, it was totally headed in the opposite direction and would get Boyfriend, not her, but decided that this was counterproductive logic AT TWO IN THE MORNING.

Three-forty: I wake up choking and hacking on some sort of hot bile in my throat (I'm sure the aliens put it there after they were done with their fly-by probe). I medicate that with a cherry-pineapple Fusion Lifesaver, because those things are good.

Nine-fifteen: ...Except when you wake up six hours later and the residue left in your mouth is foul.

So now I'm trying to eat breakfast (Leggo my Eggo, Luis Guzmán!), and I feel like hell on a stick. I was going to say something else, but I think I'm going back to bed now. I'm horribly behind on my email, if you've written and haven't gotten a reply back, so I'm going to try to work on that later today.

Tags: best of, shenanigans, sick

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

← Ctrl ← Alt
Ctrl → Alt →
← Ctrl ← Alt
Ctrl → Alt →