Abez sez Assalamualaikum!

We now return you to your regularly scheduled apartment

Well, I’m back home in ze apartment again, sleeping in my own bed and coughing germs onto my very own husband. Ah, the comforts of home. My three-day fever being over, I’ve moved on to tackling my five-day cough. It sounds pretty gross, really, and is not at all the debonair vocalization that one comes to expect from a ladies’ man like myself. *wiggles eyebrows*

I’m sort of weak and wobbly feeling, and if I was a better sick person I could use this to my advantage. I could delicately wheeze and look yearningly towards the window, meaning I wanted an ice-cream sundae, or I could turn over in bed and sigh, indicating that I wanted a new laptop. The opportunities are endless, but I have failed to avail any of them because my brain is running below standard too, and by the time I come up with really good demands, the opportune little cough or sigh has already passed.

I’m no good at being sick. I get bored lying in bed and I don’t want “sick person food” (except for my Momma’s chicken soup, which is magically delicious regardless of whether you’re diseased). I want ice cream. I want pizza. I want nachos and chocolate cookies and the stomach sez that if these things taste good, then logically they must be good. And what harm can come of it? Illness is bacterial, or viral, or psychological (hehe) not nutritional, so why can’t “sick person food” be stuff that makes you happy and therefore more energetic and more likely to recover? Does chocolate ice-cream not make one want to get up and dance? If they served more ice-cream in hospitals they would have a lot more dancing patients and therefore a lot less sick people.

That’s it, isn’t it. Feeding sick people bland food is all a conspiracy by hospitals to keep you sicker for longer, therefore increasing hospital revenue. Trust me, I’ve had hospital food, and it definitely saps your will to carry on. We, the common people, have simply carried the hospital’s ‘wisdom’ into our own lives, not realizing the damage we are causing to ourselves.

Friends, colleagues, I believe I have made a valid case, and a review of my theory (boring food makes you sad, sadness leads to lethargy and weakness, your weakness gives the germs the upper hand in the battle) proves, without a doubt, that HF should bring home a pint of chocolate ice-cream.

Stat.

Thank you.

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