It’s been a quiet weekend, after the fun-fun Saturday night with Pope Quincy and the French Fry boy. I’ve known them for nigh on ten years now, and I’ve just about gotten to the point where I’m pretty sure the last decade of friendship has not in fact all been part of an evil scheme to get me to let my guard down so they can pull down my pants in front of the girls’ gym class. (I said almost. Don’t get any ideas, slavboy.)Something about the three of us getting together just gets the neurons clicking in exactly the right way. I attribute it to the sense of relaxation and the rapid-fire patter of ideas clicking off like minds, since the same happens when I meet with James and Erin Bow, and no alcohol is involved on those occasions. Although beer does play its part.
Edit: it plays its part when with Quincy and slavboy, that is. Not when with James and Erin. Grammar and inner ear balance, they're the first things to go.
“Nice van. Roomy. Spacious.”
“Yes, lots of room in the back for giving young and impressionable actress a, ahem, ride home after the show, eh?”
“Mommy! Mommy! Why is that van moving back and forth like that?”
“That’s not important, dear; all you have to know is that when it is, you shouldn’t come a-knockin’.”
“I have no idea what you two are talking about.”
“If this van’s squeakin’, don’t come a-peekin’!”
“If this van’s in motion, Quincy’s purchased hand lotion!”
“I can stop the van here. I can let you out right here. You can walk.”
But it was a quiet weekend after that, lazing around the house and relaxing. Watched some movies on DVD and the Movie Network; Cube 2: Hypercube (bad), Men With Brooms (not bad), and Death to Smoochy (strangely uplifting and unjustly panned by the critics). Brooms should have been better, but it’s a fun and undemanding movie as it is, and the cast includes the guy who played Hamlet in the Queen’s University production in which I played Polonious; he plays Alexander “The Juggernaut” Yount in a role which I can only assume was written particularly for him.
Unfortunately, now I’m laid up with what I hope is a cold. I’m certainly overdue for one; most of the sick days I took last year at tSc were brought on only by my being thoroughly sick of my job, and I haven’t taken one at CHUM all year. I don’t have a hacking cough or a high fever -- at least, none that I’d notice, what with my litre-per-day Dr Pepper habit -- and I’m pretty sure that, whatever the American media and the World Health Organization might say, our health workers have managed to keep our outbreak sufficiently inbreaky. (I’ve just been watching Buffy, can you tell?) In other words, I don’t believe I’ve been exposed to SARS and I don’t believe I have the symptoms of it.
Nevertheless, we work in fairly cramped quarters and I did have a sore throat today, so I called in sick and have left word that I may do the same tomorrow as well while I wait to see how this thing progresses. If it gets worse I’ll go to the doctor, but as I don’t have any reason to believe this is anything other than it is, I’ll see if it runs its course by itself. I believe I get this trend from my mother; she avoids doctors because she was raised as a Christian Scientist, but I do it because I’m lazy.
In any case, I’m not quite sure what the procedure is if one does suspect one’s been infected. If one goes to an unquarantined facility and it’s confirmed one has SARS, does that not mean one has therefore put the people in that facility at risk? If one goes to a quarantined facility and it’s confirmed that one doesn’t have SARS, hasn’t one exposed oneself to the disease by going to the facility?
Eh. I’m sure it’s just a cold, and I’m really only putting this in my journal because I don’t update my journal often enough.
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