Taking a sick day

If you just signed up, welcome, I promise to be more intellectually engaging next week. My birthday was yesterday and last night I gathered with friends at a loud(ish) bar. I drank three non-alcoholic Aperol Spritzes, ate some pizza and cake, and didn't take any cough medicine for the congestion that (of course) crashed my sinuses as soon as I assumed sleep position. I was up at six this morning and out the door by seven to feed four cats across three separate locations. Needless to say, the cold that I was basically done with yesterday is on a revenge tour today.

I'm safely back in bed now with my own cats resting in a cuddle puddle at my side, a little under 200 pages of Elena Ferrante's The Story of a New Name left to read, and a little over a season of Hulu's sociopathic college soap Tell Me Lies to power through before I hit the season three premiere that's apparently wild enough to warrant a segment on The Watch and a Vulture recap.

I have a lot more to say about being sick while being underemployed, being sick and having to surrender myself to low step counts and unsatisfied exercise compulsions, being sick and watching trash while losing time that could be spent taking long walks and/or figuring out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. But so it goes. For now, please enjoy this thematically resonant, melancholic guitar pop miracle from a pre-"Stacy's Mom" Fountains of Wayne.