I have the flu, a biological miracle for someone who hasn't left the house for 10 days.
I have a flu routine. As soon as I feel my hair hurt, I rush to the store and buy junk food. Because nothing helps an immune system quite like a massive influx of sugar.
Two anecdotes have emerged from this. In Pittsburgh, the cashier surveyed my DayQuil, NyQuil, nasal spray, saline spray, 12-pack of toilet paper, Captain Crunch, and five bags of cheese doodles and said "Man. I wanna party with you tonight."
And once in Metamuville, I had pneumonia. I couldn't work, so Katrina came over to whine about our clients in person. It was horrible. She talked about work while I lay on the couch, too weak to strangle her. I was trying to summon the requisite energies when my grocery delivery arrived. Captain Crunch, cheese doodles, cookies, candy, frozen pizza, White Castles, toilet paper and Maalox. Katrina surveyed the items, especially the last two.
"You know..."