I Am Disgusting

Whatever Bevan had last week has succeeded in hijacking my immune system this week and my eyeballs are itchy and red and my brain is trapped in a fog somewhere above the attic and clear slime is gushing out of me like a dam broke inside my face and my voice sounds like I'm on the other end of the telephone in a Peanuts cartoon and except to retrieve the $28 worth of pressed juice I had delivered via Postmates a few hours ago I'm not entirely sure I've been off the couch today. Instead I've been cocooned in its cushions under a fleece blanket and jogging pants, green hospital socks on my feet, alternating between reading Jandy Nelson's The Sky is Everywhere, binge-watching Grace and Frankie starring Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin and a homosexual President Bartlet on Netflix and attacking the now-crusty sleeve of my hoodie with soaking-wet sneezes. Did I mention that I am disgusting?