In the days after our State College trip, I started to feel like I was coming down with a cold or something. I blame the combination of a weird sleep schedule plus lack of sleep plus sitting out in the cold. Most of the weekend was unseasonably warm, but Saturday night got pretty uncomfortable, especially for being outside.
So I called in sick this past Thursday. And apparently, I missed the celebratory end-of-project meeting–I was thinking it would be another pain in the ass meeting, not the end of the hassle with a free, catered lunch. I don’t always end up missing fun stuff when I call in sick, but when I do…
It was gonna be either that or Friday. Part of the deal was I felt a cough coming on, and I didn’t want to be hacking and sniffling all through a meeting. And the tradeoff is after Paul left for work just before 7, I went back to sleep–for another four hours. And by the time I got up and went in Friday, I felt a lot better and whatever I was getting was gone.
Life with Paul here, by the way, has been pretty good. We’ve had a few minor issues, like the sheer number of dishes in the sink and his cleaning/decluttering methods. My parents brought Duke over to switch cars now that my window finally got fixed, and Paul’s version of cleaning for parental visits is taking everything he can and stashing it out of sight in my bedroom, like my parents are gonna be offended by the sight of a box of soaps on my bathroom counter or my hamper. It’s this method of cleaning that creates the illusion that the space isn’t lived in or occupied by humans who own things, really.
He’s also a fan of talking when we’re in bed, which would be fine if it wasn’t keeping us up later than we should be up, considering we both work at 7.
Duke’s visit, though, was fun. He is very confused by my apartment and was barking a bit, although he settled down when we brought back takeout from the Upper Crust. And shortly after he’d been barking, I got a knock on my door.
I was expecting it to be a neighbor or management coming to bitch about Duke being in here, since no pets are allowed in the apartment. Turns out it was my neighbor who thought he’d broken his leg and needed me to go flag down the paramedics he’d called.
So Paul and I found them, saw him off, told him to let us know if he needed anything, and he went on his way in an ambulance. We haven’t heard from him since, so I’m assuming he’s okay.