Too Sick to Do Stuff

All week I was fine. I was looking forward to the weekend so I could make some art. But a sickness, some cold with bestial talons, shredded my throat and clogged my nose on Friday.

I couldn't really do well drawing the drum set I set up in the dining room of my 30th Street house, so I gave up for the night, read a few pages of Norman Mailer on the sofa, got to thinking about writing and soon disappeared into the recesses of sleep (the kind you have when you bunch up sick on a sofa). When I woke up in the middle of the night, I saw little feet in black socks dangling above the arm of the loveseat perpendicular to my sofa.

An unidentified young woman was sleeping there. The blanket she clutched completely obscured her face, but her red knit hat poked through. Then I recalled something else, something that transpired earlier. This was not the first time I woke up that night. My roommate Dave came in after a long night of fun. In a delirious fit of silliness, I started asking him for a bag of weed.

"Yo. You got a bag of weed on you that we can puff?"

Keep in mind, I don't do drugs (only tried pot twice) and everyone knows it, so Dave and I were laughing. And then I heard the girl on the loveseat laugh; she sounded kind of disturbed by how open I was about wanting the pot. Her laugh intrigued me, but I was too sleepy and lazy to see who she was.

Anyway, the following day I really did not desire to discover anything more about her. The blanket still covered all but her feet, and that was that. I tried to draw the drum set again, drank some coffee that someone in the house had brewed, and accepted the fact that I was hideously sick. I made small plans. Kat, my roommate Brian's girlfriend, and I joined Ari at the Golden West Cafe for vegetarian/vegan brunch.

The drawing above is an abstraction of the room in my parents' house that used to be mine. Now it is a den for scrapbooking.

Also, I came up with the following YouTube playlist to combat a cold. Enjoy.