AKA William

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By Tuesday afternoon, I was miserable and for some reason, my computer at work pretty much ceased functioning. Argh! I felt like shit and I couldn’t get any work done. All I wanted to do was to be home in bed, but I feel like I need to be at work if I can, because I’m already over my vacation/personal day allotment.

I spent the rest of the day in an increasingly bad mood trying to run virus and spy-ware scans on my uncooperative computer, finally deciding around 5, to thrown in the towel and hope for the best the next day.

It was great to come home, jump in bed, order some spicy Thai soup and surf the TV. I’d already enjoyed watching Dude, Where’s My Car? (for the first time!) the night before, so I knew there weren’t many movies on demand I wanted to see, but I had been procrastinating trying to get into the new series, Bored to Death and Glee, so when I ran out of recorded HGTV shows, I plunged in. Loved them both.

I laughed out loud at Bored to Death, totally sympathizing with Jason Schwartzman’s New York nebbish and charmed by Ted Danson’s Alec Baldwin-esque turn – I love when Hollywood veteran’s play lovably flawed people their own age, as seen through the eyes of younger writers and directors, a la Jeff Goldblum in Igby Goes Down. And I was surprised by how invested I got in Glee, considering that we didn’t have a glee club at my school; Matthew Morrison and Lea Michelle pulled me in at least as much as in their Broadway work and Jane Lynch and the rest of the cast are wonderful – I even got invested in the football game (another omission at my high school, not that I would have participated…).

No, the problem isn’t that I’m bored sick in bed.

If anything, I’m all too happy to lie in bed and watch TV – and chainsmoke. I wind up smoking more when I’m sick because I’m just there alone in my apartment watching TV for hours as opposed to being out on the town or at a friend’s place or even having people over where there are various reasons I can’t smoke or can’t smoke as much.

Then I start worrying that smoking is making me sicker – it certainly doesn’t feel good – and I start making all kinds of plans to quit. “When I wake up tomorrow, instead of spending an hour watching TV and smoking and drinking Diet Coke in bed, I’ll go running and then when I get back, after my shower, I’ll put on the patch and begin the first day of the rest of my life.” The trouble is that waking up sick is the last time in the world I wake up and feel like running.