Stephanie Klein's Greek Tragedy

I am home sick, with a moderate temperature. Beneath my bathroom sink, I’ve big round brushes, feet moisturizing socks, a pumice stone, even an enema. What I don’t have is a lot of what one needs when a cold arrives unexpectedly. Let’s begin here. I’m the type of girl who doesn’t skimp… so my toilet paper is Charmin Ultra (the blue one, not the red… big difference). I trekked over to Duane Reade with Linus. I bring Linus because he’s been stored inside for a few days in a puff of a sweater to keep his pink naked body warm. Of course my Duane Reade has an escalator. As Linus approaches the collapsible stairs, he gets down low, leans on his forearms and growls. My dog is now barking at the escalator, in a store, which has a prominent NO PETS ALLOWED sign on its door. Although I can’t breathe and my throat actually has some new type of razor lodged in it, I begin to laugh. Swoop up Linus.

We finally make it home, and we unpack. I place bags down; he pulls out items with his mouth. I begin to sneeze. Along with the Gatorade and chicken noodle soup, Michael brought me white roses to put by my bed. Jennifer sent me beautiful lilies. Amazing friends, yes. Beautiful flowers, yes, fragrant, oh yes. Sneezes—yes and yes. The moral of this story is: Don’t even bother buying tissues if you have a cold. No tissue is as soft as Charmin Ultra toilet paper. Damn, I should have known not to buy tissues from Scott’s Brand. Oh my lord, what was I thinking?

There is another lesson in this; it’s akin to never going grocery shopping when you’re hungry. If you’re sick, let someone else do this for you (insert boyfriend here). You are clearly not thinking straight. You’re the crazy one laughing at the escalator; you should be in bed watching something with Meg Ryan.