The Joy of the Sick Day

Since I spent the past week in various states of illness, I didn’t bother to blog. I barely bothered to breathe, in fact, as it was such an effort. For those who care, I am now happily almost-healthy and quite easily made it through a 10-hour workday today.

I approached this past grossness of being a little differently than I would under normal-Nadine circumstances. I decided to stop needing to be in control and all organized and put together and just accept a temporary life of congestion and weariness. I rented movies. I went to the grocery store in *gasp* sweats and no makeup. I schlepped around my apartment and didn’t even consider cleaning the bathroom (my weekly weekend ritual). And so, despite the fact that I had to cancel an afternoon with Meredith (I’ll make it up, I promise), and that Schindler’s List was possessed and kept skipping huge scenes (Blockbuster will make it up to me, I’ll make sure of it), I managed to appreciate my time being out of commission.

The heat is on in my apartment. By “heat” I mean “sauna.” I actually woke up in the middle of the night with sweaty kneepits (the area behind the knee. I guess it would be “legpits” if you want to be all technical). The temperate situation is strange here. It’s flannel in the summer, tank tops in the winter. Because of the sweltering conditions, I made myself leave yesterday. Still slightly stuffed and out of it, I made it to church (which was a little stranger than usual: the pastor just read the first three chapters of Ephesians. No commentary whatsoever), and then headed to the movies with Joel.

Okay, people. Go see The Departed. It’s the best drama of the year so far. Seriously. And if you hate Leonardo DiCaprio (as most guys do, which is clearly a sign of massive insecurity), you’ll be blown away by how brilliant he can actually be. He and Scorsese make a pretty phenomenal team (see Gangs of New York, The Aviator), and this film is their best pairing yet. The pacing and storytelling was the best I’ve seen in a long time. It’s a long movie that never once felt long. The acting was pitch-perfect: Mark Wahlberg, Matt Damon, Alec Baldwin, Martin Sheen, Jack Nicholson. Man, I would have paid to work on that set. So unless you have a hard time with language or gun violence, go. It’s worth your money. And you probably have more money than me. So your money is worth less than mine.

That is all. I’m reading The Notebook to balance out the organized-crime exposure. The movie is better. That doesn’t happen often.

Seacrest out.