You pick up 60 seats in the House, and you also get sick.
Once again, I am sick. I am sitting in bed, as I have been all day long. I have interacted with no human beings, save my cleaning man.
Also, guess who? Gristle.
Gristle came over a few hours ago to pick up some books which he sent to my house. (One thing about Gristle? He doesn’t have an address, so whenever he orders goods online, he just has them sent to us. He gets more mail here than I do.)
Gristle came in, sat down on the couch, and said, “I knew you were going to get sick on Sunday.”
“How did you know?” I asked.
“Well, you were sneezing. How much mucus do you have right now?”
“Not a ton of mucus, no.”
“But you had some yesterday, right? What color was it? White or yellow?”
“I knew it. You have a cold.”
“I don’t think it’s a cold, Gristle.”
“Let me ask you another question: did you have a fever today?”
“It’s because you have a cold. Fevers make you hotter. Solves a cold. Anyway,” he stood up. “I’ll be back at 10:30 or so to check up on you.”
“Please don’t do that, Gristle.”
“Just let me know!”
And then he left. It is currently 8:15, and I’m going to go to bed soon. Whether I will be awakened at 10:30 by a well-meaning Gristle: TBD.