Friday, June 13, 2003

I was telling Christine yesterday how much I love drama. I think I learned how to react to situations from watching soap operas as a child.

Today I am sick. The problem is that I can't just be sick and be a trooper and smile through my discomfort. Oh no. I'm not just sick. I am the sickest I have ever been in my life, I am convinced.

I woke up this morning with a horrible fever. I'm dying, I think to self. Barely able to talk, form coherent thoughts or walk without wavering back and forth, I long for my bed, soothing music and an attractive young European man to feed me peeled grapes and Chlortrimeton. Nobody knows the troubles I've seen, I think to self.

Enter: my life, the soap opera. Dramatic hand to my feverish forehead, I promise my fans that I will try my best to get through the day. If you see me lose consciousness and collapse, I warn, be sure to tell the hospital that I'm allergic to avocados.

You know, just in case.

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