sick sack.

Being sick is unfortunate.  

For me, it is because it defines who you are and how you feel for as long as it decides to.  I, as almost everyone who knows me could attest...am not the best sick person to be around.  I'm pretty sure I whine, but I don't know it.  Which is akward for me.  

So tonight. Friday night.  I am sick.  And I am alone.  Coincidence?  Probably not.

When I am a more whole version of this sick shell I'm in currently...I am passionatly into certain things.  Right now I find myself wanting to be altogether dark days...so I thought I'd share the things I am craving from by bathrobe...clutching my Kleenex with one hand and typing with the other.  

When I'm sick, I want to watch akwardly brilliant movies even more than usual.  Right now I am heavily into watching Annie Hall or Harold and Maude.  Too bad I'm living at my parents and they don't own a VCR or DVD player.  So that's out.  I think I'll whine about it.

Drinking the champagnes of Gingerales is obviously a must.  Vernors anyone?  It is so hard to find this stuff.  It's like everyone drinks it, but nobody wants to talk about it because the stores are always sold out.  I find that strange.  

Lastly, I want it to be pouring down rain.  I want not for the icky moon.  I want huge raindrops pounding on my window, snuggled up in a down blanket in front of a fire.  

Is this all too much to ask right now?  I figured as much.