Voting for the contest continues through midnight (EST) next Monday. In the meantime, back to our regularly scheduled blogging.
Recently, one Saturday, I pretended to be sick and got a sub to teach my aerobics classes so that I could spend the whole day with E.S. This seemed like a terrific idea until I actually got sick Friday night. I woke up Saturday coughing and feverish, at which point I proceeded to take as many different cold medicines as I could find in my apartment. E.S. was feeling fine, but since he had not so long before been in a position to get my germs–in several positions, in fact–I suggested that he fortify himself with vitamin C; he replied that he already had. Then we had the following conversation.
FAUSTUS: How much did you take?
E.S.: Five hundred milligrams.
FAUSTUS: That’s not enough. You need to take, like, ten thousand milligrams a day. That’s what I take when I’m worried I’m getting sick, and it always helps.
E.S.: You’d die from ten thousand milligrams.
FAUSTUS (snarkily): And yet I’m still alive.
E.S.: You wouldn’t actually die from ten thousand. I just wanted to make you say “and yet.”
FAUSTUS: Oh my God.
E.S.: Won’t it be great when we live together?
FAUSTUS: No.
how…sweet…
Yuck, yuck, and yuck. Having recently recovered from the flu myself, I wish you well. I kept David from catching it by sending him off to an alpaca show, where he instead got sick with a massive allergy attack. We have both been coughing since. Hopefully you will fare better.
A 10th grade Honors Chemistry project on ascorbic acid led me to discover that you can take as much Vitamin C as you’d like. Your body takes what it needs, and then you pretty much just pee out the rest. If only that concept held with everything we ate. Like chocolate.
I feel like I am missing a grammar joke. Damn my public school education, damn it straight to hell!
You have to give E.S. credit: that’s not bad for a guy with cholera.
Buying a place together is one thing, but living together in it is a whole different ball game… poor, poor E.S.
Perhaps someday I will have the privilege to watch this unfold in realtime.
This is why lying is bad. Every single time that I’ve called in sick to work, and not actually been sick, I end up sick. My subconscious just can’t take the guilt and decides that 1)I should be punished and 2)if I say I’m sick, I must be.
E.S. fibs at you a lot, simply to make you say things you’d probably say anyway. I don’t know what this means, but I think you should watch out. Eventually everything he says will be calculated to make you say what he wants you to say! Diabolical!
God, you guys are so cute together
Paul