The Flu of Ten Thousand Years

I had a couple of posts I wanted to write, but about 12 days ago I thought it would be an stupendously awesome idea to walk 60 blocks in 15 degree weather from work down to the Jeff VanderMeer reading discussion of his new novel Annihilation at McNally-Jackson in Soho. And that was the end of my sort-of good health, hooray! Since then, I’ve had an ongoing and ever-morphing bout of flu/cold/flu-cold/cold/cough/snot-monster/horking/phizzing/whatthefuckjustcameoutofmythroat. So, yeah, not much done on any front, writing or otherwise.


Remember when I said there was a new infestation in the apartment building? Y’all thought I was probably exaggerating, right? Well, ladies and gentlemen, please introduce yourself to Georgina:


Yep, that’s a grown-ass possum sleeping in our apartment garbage cans. She (or he, I really can’t tell) has been snoozing in them for a couple of weeks now. The super will occasionally come across her when he’s dragging the trash to the curb, and he’ll tip her out and shoo her away, but that’s obviously not enough to stop her from coming back. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to this spring, when she gives birth. Because she will, because oh man this apartment building ha ha ha aaaaauuuggggghhhh.

FYI, the thing sort of coming down and wrapping around her is either 1) a downed internet cable or 2) a gigantic biomechanical spider leg. Considering what you know about where I live, I’ll leave it up to you to decide which one it is, but really, seriously, how could it not be #2…