On Our Way To Crazy

I’m sick, y’all.

Everyone in my office was sick last week. But rather than stay home and get healthy, they all decided to take their germified butts to the office and spread the joy. It hit me on Thursday, and I made it to lunchtime on Friday before I had to come home. Where I have been ever since. The only moves I’ve made in the past 48 hours have been from the bed to the sofa and back again.

I could barely keep my eyes open yesterday, so I lost the usual sick time perk of getting a lot of reading done. Instead, I watched a lot of TV. Actually, I listened to a lot of TV.

I fell asleep during VH1′s Top 20 Countdown (probably due to the boredom induced by hearing that Fray song for the millionth time) and woke up in the middle of something called “I Love New York.” PEOPLE. What is this? I have no idea, but it completely rules. This girl, New York, lives in a house with a bunch of guys with lame nicknames, and I guess they are competing to date her? It’s like the Bachelor, I guess, only MORE AWESOME. On this particular episode, after the guys competed in a doghouse building contest, two of them got drunk together while one of them was wearing a leopard print speedo. The next morning, New York’s mom woke them all up to go to church. Apparently morals are really important to her, so she thought she’d take the ten guys her daughter lives with to the house of the Lord and see how they do. You know, before they all head back to the house for a massage competition.

Later I watched a DVR-ed episode of Rachael Ray’s show “$40 a Day”. I’m not a fan of Ms. Ray, due to her manhands and over use of the phrase “EVOO – extra virgin olive oil” (it doesn’t do you any good to use an acronym if you tell us what it stands for every time!), but I recorded this episode because she was in my hometown of Dallas. She made several “Beverly Hillbillies” references, which bugged me not only because I get pretty tired of the Texan=hick/backwoods idea, but also because I don’t think they were even from Texas. I know they call oil “texas tea”, but they also call Jed a mountaineer. Texas has a lot of things, but mountaineers aren’t one of them. (Some time spent on the google tells me the Clampetts were either from North Dakota or West Virginia.) Anyway, outside of the obnoxious host, the show was pretty good. She went to La Madeleine (one of my favorite places on earth, but a Dallas thing? I don’t know about that), Sonny Bryan’s (YUM), Monica’s Aca y Alla (which she pronounced ACK-a y AL-uh, and where she had the best thing on the menu, the mexican lasagna) and had dessert at the Dragonfly at Hotel Zaza, which I have never been to but heard it’s awesome.

I watched Vanilla Ice throw a big fit on one show because someone put a stripper in his bed. I watched a plastic surgeon in Hollywood shop for a $5 million dollar second home. I watched Stacy and Clinton try to convince a receptionist that football jerseys are not appropriate office attire.

I learned from The Secret Life of… Tex-Mex Flavors that fajitas were invented at Ninfa’s in Houston and that the reason El Fenix’s tortillas are so good is because they dip them in chile sauce and pan fry them before making the enchiladas. Did y’all know El Fenix is what they serve in heaven? It’s gonna be so good.

After my day of stimulating entertainment, I loaded up on Nyquil and slept from 5:00 yesterday afternoon till about 11:00 this morning. I’ve been able to keep my eyes open today and have spent most of it watching Super Bowl pregame stuff. As lame as five hours of inspirational stories may be, several of them made me cry. Stupid football players and their stupid foundations and families and traditions. GAH.

I feel significantly better today than I did yesterday, so hopefully I’ll be in good enough shape to return to work tomorrow. All I need now is some kind of revenge strategy to get back at them for taking away my weekend. Suggestions?