I reminded Chuck of the myriad of ways the world is conspiring against my comfort right now. Then I remembered to ask how he is doing and felt like an asshole that it has taken me this long to learn that he is stressed.
A 20-something walked a dog past our house in the middle of the afternoon and I thought: "Who does that? Who just gets to walk a dog in the middle of a day? That's the luckiest girl in the world, right there."
I considered penning a Netflix Original Series. I have the opening scene scripted in my head right now.
I looked at thousands of photographs from JCrew's wedding and decided that I should be using my free time to find an attractive resting position for my face.
I tried to sit on our porch, but got bit by three mosquitoes within seconds. I blame Chuck's bestie, The Great Archivist, who recently posted on my Facebook wall an article about why mosquitos are attracted to pregnant women.
I found a way to arrange pillows and The Seahorse so that it doesn't make my head hurt to read a book. I used this brief period of comfort to read two chapters of Chuck Klosterman's new collection of essays.
I heated up a burrito for the amount of time suggested on the wrapper, but it was still frozen when I went in for my first bite. I threw it back into the microwave for two minutes.
I observed our neighbor as he performed his bizarre daily ritual involving his beloved car and a parking fetish.
I took a very long, very therapeutic shower. This has become the lone item on my daily to-do list. Showering. It makes me a feel a bit more human.
I watched about 14 episodes of "How I Met Your Mother," which is quickly becoming one of my favorite sitcoms. It is completely changing my opinion on Jason Segel, who I previously found to be a weirdly Eeyore-ian and loathesome actor.