(no subject)
So, there's a Wii party over at Matt's tonight. Knowing since Thursday that I was kind of dead with the flu, I replied to his e-mail and text giving information about it saying that I would not be there. Because, really, even if I'm feeling a bit better, it was still going to be Flu Day 3 and that means jumping around while flailing my arms in a house filled with pets who come near me just to work on my allergies would not be a good idea.
Matt's apparently called me a few times over the past few days. I've been oblivious to that. Stan just stopped by, rang the door bell, and knocked on the window a few times. I had to go change into jeans and a real shirt just so that I was semi-presentable, but he was already back by the coach house by the time I got myself dressed. So I actually went ahead and took a walk back there in miserable, humid weather.
Stan was right outside his door on the phone with Matt when I got there. Apparently my friends weren't sure that I wasn't dead because the first thing I heard was "Holy crap, he IS alive." Stan changed his mind to partially alive because he was convinced I was a zombie. He also mused that I looked like I'd been asleep for two days, which is pretty accurate. So there was a little bit of small talk, including him letting me know that his dad was concerned about me. He's been on the property doing some work and taking out some garbage and stuff, and he noticed that my lights hadn't been on (since I've mostly been in bed napping instead of being in the living room like usual).
I guess what I'm saying is that it's nice to know that if I had died, it's nice to know that somebody would have found my disease-ridden corpse pretty quickly since they were concerned thanks to a conveniently scheduled gathering. And that means a lot.
Matt's apparently called me a few times over the past few days. I've been oblivious to that. Stan just stopped by, rang the door bell, and knocked on the window a few times. I had to go change into jeans and a real shirt just so that I was semi-presentable, but he was already back by the coach house by the time I got myself dressed. So I actually went ahead and took a walk back there in miserable, humid weather.
Stan was right outside his door on the phone with Matt when I got there. Apparently my friends weren't sure that I wasn't dead because the first thing I heard was "Holy crap, he IS alive." Stan changed his mind to partially alive because he was convinced I was a zombie. He also mused that I looked like I'd been asleep for two days, which is pretty accurate. So there was a little bit of small talk, including him letting me know that his dad was concerned about me. He's been on the property doing some work and taking out some garbage and stuff, and he noticed that my lights hadn't been on (since I've mostly been in bed napping instead of being in the living room like usual).
I guess what I'm saying is that it's nice to know that if I had died, it's nice to know that somebody would have found my disease-ridden corpse pretty quickly since they were concerned thanks to a conveniently scheduled gathering. And that means a lot.