You may have noticed that this post is date-stamped as 7:53 on Friday night. What better things do I have to do on Friday night than write about my life? You know what people say about writers: if you can't do something well, you write about it instead.
Well, we did have great plans involving good friends and Killer Bunnies tonight. Followed by great plans: round 2 tomorrow night with Nacho Libre and Taco Salad.
But Abe got the flu, so none of that is happening. Abe doesn't get sick often, and he doesn't take it lying down (unlike the Man Cold video my friend Elizabeth shared). But I knew it was bad when I got home from work and heard the microwave beeper go off - you know, the one that beeps 3 times every 5 minutes to let you know that your food is still waiting for you. There was a half-full tupperware of spaghetti sauce on the counter and some crusty cooked noodles on the stove top.
I went back to the bedroom to ask Abe about his late lunch (it was after 5 by now). He looked at me with glass-glazed eyes and mumbled something about the microwave going off since I had called him earlier - around 2pm. In his incoherent muttering he mentioned that it had started to get kind of annoying.
Now that's desperation.