I think it was one night last week when I awoke abruptly from a dream, the kind of dream that seems to be half reality because the awakening is so abrupt. So I’m not sure if it was real or a dream, but my Satan worshipping neighbors were standing over me and chanting as I slept.
Several weeks ago I dreamt that my butt was rotting off.
 
I’m sick again. Another sinus infection. So imagine all the phlegm. Or, as Emma would say, "I have a snot problem."
I know I’m sick a lot. I just didn’t realize other people noticed. Today, one of my co-workers came to ask me something. I don’t talk to her that frequently. She said, "Are you sick again?!?" I feel like all I ever talk about is being sick, and all I’m ever doing is getting steroid shots in the ass. By the same nurse. I now automatically know which cheek to bare. I saw her at Steel Magnolias last month, and I told Michelle, "That woman has stuck a needle in my right cheek."
 
Here’s an e-mail I got from Lauren this morning: "I saw vintage season one Miranda reading a Kindle on the subway this morning. Saw the oldest tranny ever a week ago. Don’t know why I feel compelled to tell you this."
Here is how I responded: "Awesome emails like this are why you are my best friend. I have a sinus infection. Can’t wait to go home and lay in bed watching Dexter. Wish I could watch it with you, but wouldn’t want to subject you to all the phlegm."
See, all I ever talk about is being sick. And Dexter.
 
I cannot wait to see old trannies!
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