I am carefully gathering up my possessions, walking around this hotel room - my prison for the past two days - gingerly, blowing my nose every minute and husbanding my strength for the 12 hour journey I am about to take.
I have had a 102 fever for the past two days and been unable to attend the screenings I came out here for, unfortunately. I am tamping down the temperature with aspirin now and some poor soul is going to sit next to me on the Chicago to Newark leg. If they are as hypochondriacal as I, I truly feel sorry for them in advance. Who knows? Maybe it'll be some hot chick who's into guys oozing phlegm, with blistered noses from too many kleenex, runny eyes and a feverish pallor. Such women must exist, right? Alas, I would not be able to satisfy her forever as I am probably already on the mend.
Anyway, I am about to pack up the rental car, drive the 60 miles to Albuquerque, wait at the airport for the 2.5 hour flight. Wait in Chicago for 2 hours, then take the 2.5 hour flight to NYC and home, aka "Fun City," "Gotham," "Domicile of the Snouted One," and more.
Wish me luck.
The good news is that I will almost certainly be done with my winter cold and ready to finish this screenplay whenever Meredith returns from the far East.
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