Neat things have transpired this evening.
My phone rings. It's midnight. I'm busy being sick and not sleeping, but I'm not in a state of full awareness either.
Caller ID says it's my brother.
My brother was supposed to bring me some pop or something earlier to ease my throatular discomfort. He failed to do so.
Phone conversation goes like this.
Me: *Murph gurgle smrph* Hello?
Person on the phone: Hi.
(Some other stuff goes here)
I realize that I don't know who's on the other line. My phone hath betrayed me.
Me: Who is this?
Person on the phone: IT'S FREN!
That's right. I am so out of it that I cannot tell the difference between my brother and my bestest friend in the whole wide world.
Me: I'm sorry. My dog is sick.
Fren: Maybe she took some of your cold medicine.
Ok, so yeah. I thought my best friend was my brother, I try to cover it with an ever so clever "My dog is sick." (Which is true, she is soooo sick.), he tells me to call him tomorrow, I whine "But I wanna taaaalk...." (Because the subtle whine of desperation persuades people EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.)
*Le sigh* (Do you know how long it took me to locate the asterisk in the dark? So much time.)
My brother didn't bring me pop. My throat feels all tickly and gross.
My dog is sick.
I'm wide awake now.
I don't have kleenexes, so I've got a roll of toilet paper on my bedside table... half a roll now.
Fren thinks I'm a druggie.
I'm watching Death Cab for Cutie on "Vh1 Storytellers".
I think Fren is right. I'm sleeping.
Tomorrow, I'll tell you of the adventures of "Katie Trying to Keep Cordy from Dying".
P.S. Tomorrow I have to play a beautiful lady that a knight falls in love with in my friends Matthew & Keith's movie. Doing so with a bright red "cold" nose could be my greatest perfomance to date. (And I've had some GREAT performances in my life, LET ME TELL YOU!)