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I hate being sick. I felt myself coming down with a cold on Wednesday afternoon, and started popping vitamin C, hoping for the best — but it didn’t work.

Went to L.A. on Wednesday night (I’ve gotta stop doing that — it’s like seeing an ex and falling in love all over again when you do, which is just too difficult — but I don’t have a choice here), and stayed in the ultra-crappy Holiday Inn on the 405. You know, the round one right on the freeway. And I do mean RIGHT ON THE FREEWAY. Got about two hours’ worth of sleep.

Spent the day at the Fox Studios, and by the time we met up at LAX for dinner (Encounter — way overpriced and not all that delicious), I was hurting. Woke up this morning, which is the day of a big offsite meeting that’s been planned for weeks, barely able to move. I feel lousy.

I really, really hate being sick. The dogs are laying on the sofa bored out of their minds, and Jeff is working and I’m home doing nothing at all. So, I just thought I’d rant.


Stevey Expounded Thusly:

And this is place to do it. Rant, that is.

Get better soon. And if I’d known you were staying so close, I would have asked you to come over and help me balance my fancy new ceiling fan! (Anyone know how to balance one so it’s stable BOTH directions? Ugh!)

Feel better soon. Sicky = yucky. That’s why they both end in Y.

Friday, November 19th, 2004 • 4:07pm • Permalink

J Expounded Thusly:

Did you get balanced? That is, did you balance the fan? 😉

Sunday, November 21st, 2004 • 1:42am • Permalink


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