Might be rethinking the ease with which I get passed around for hugs and kisses as I have now managed to infect the entire point, save for the Boathouse which is now a Designated Safety Zone. Sam and Matt's bed has become ground zero because Sam and I have the worst of this and we have spent the past three days in bed bemoaning our shitty immune systems while we unapologetically drink all of the orange juice for miles and watch amazing movies like Rent and Point Break and extoll the virtues of wondering who mourned for Patrick Swazye's beard?
I did, in my feverish germy way. I did.
And then I slept some more.
Their bed used to smell like sandalwood and high-end designer and cool. Now it smells like sweaty little princess. I think I'm down to hours left and I'll be kicked out and the whole thing will be burned. That's fine. There are other beds for me to languish in.
