Interviewed. Me. Imagine that. And with only one inconsequential misinterpretation regariding hits…
Still life with Kleenex, Alka Seltzer, and orange juice (Me, 1996)
So the time has finally come. I’ve managed to develop that annual nastiest cold in the world. Maybe even the worst cold in a couple of years. Oddly enough, this one seems to have moved from my chest to my head, instead of vice versa which is my usual pattern. It kept me away from my part-time job today (like that’s particularly difficult…) but it didn’t stop me from looking like a heroin addict at a meeting about some freelance work.
What really sucks about being sick in San Francisco in February, though, is having to drag your ass out in the freezing cold and pouring rain to move your car on street cleaning night. Of course, just about anyplace else, the cold would be colder and the rain would be harder, so I guess I shouldn’t bitch.
But I’m sick and I’m cranky. I’ll bitch if I goddamn well please. Why should this be different from ny other day?
Things I love today:
Things I hate today:
-
- Kleenex rash.
- That useless, tough, taste-free corned beef brisket I bought at Safeway this weekend.
- The aroma of that homeless guy who sat down next to me at lunch today.
