live the stereotype

I hate January…every year i am forced to huddle in my apartment bundled to the eyeballs trying NOT to get sick. The number of Januaries i have gotten bronchitis or worse outnumber the number of Januaries where i have managed to stay well. I have never understood it and it actually took a few years to notice the pattern.

Perhaps it is a combination of the dry inside air with the cold outside year i decide to deny it completely and that was the year I got pneumonia instead. If I don’t cower inside swaddled clutching a mug of something steamy to my face…i develop bronchial problems so bad that in my delirium i have been known to get dressed and drive…i have only empty Wendy’s containers on the kitchen counter as evidence but that’s pretty convincing. Once New Years i drove to the Emergency…or at least i think i did, I don’t remember.

One of my favorite acquisitions in recent years was this pristine Polo black watch flannel robe, from the thrift store of course, before i owned it, i would have never rationalized spending $50 on a robe, now i would replace it in a heartbeat if it were to die on me. Mine of course didn’t come wrapped around a beautiful man, but still… Of course this is all just the armor of the work at home fashion victim along with woolen socks and elastic waisted pants. It is a damn sight more presentable than the subcultural touchstone Michael Douglas’s chenille robe from Chabon’sWonderboys. I still need a pair of fingerless gloves to ease typing in the cold, but it is enough that i have parked a space heater next to my chair and warm my fingers on it from time to time.

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