I am going to have pink eyes for the rest of my life. I am going to die of pink eye. What a humiliating obituary.
I am desperate for it to clear up so I can leave this apartment without terrifying people. I am starting to feel the isolation akin to Christopher McCandless's Alaskan wilderness death wish depicted in Into The Wild, which I just spent two and a half excruciating hours watching. It arrived in the mail through Netflix and I devoured the envelope as if it were the first pile of twigs and berries I had seen in weeks. Finally! Entertainment that isn't Jerry Springer! Yep. I feel just like Christopher McCandless except without all the pretentiousness and self-righteousness. "UGH! I'm so full of angst! Parents just don't understand! I'm going to burn this pile of money because it represents all of society's woes! Ugh!"
On a side note, the movie had its highlights, including Hal Holbrook, who was married to Dixie Carter, who played Julia Sugarbaker, whom I adore. Although the film also featured Kristen Stewart, so we'll call this one even.
Sandy H. is coming to visit this weekend and I am very excited to see her, although she is nervous that I will give her my disease. When she found out I had it, she said, "You'd better not give it to me." I told her I would make a mental note of that. Bill H. also had helpful advice on how to prevent Derrick from catching it: "Well, you know, just tell Derrick not to touch anything you've touched." I'll be sure to tell him, Dad. Thanks.
My boss Lisbeth has been super nice during my absence from work and sent me this cute picture of an eye patch kitty! It would be more accurate if it had two eye patches, but I just don't have the technology to make that happen.