this frigging cold is not going anywhere. my nose is approximately the size of a small potato and my eyes are redder than beets. i have spent all weekend in leggings and an old bathrobe that i wear every time i feel sick. and laying on the couch with my sad red eyes and pile of used tissue growing in front of me.
even my mom grew tired of coddling me and decided to go out for a walk. i do not blame her the day is gorgeous. so i am by myself, pretty much blowing my nose every three minutes and watching “ONCE”. sweet movie, good songs, and yes I would have definitely slept with the main man if he came on to me and left my good-for-nothing albo at home. but he had to hit on a Czech girl.
so, there i am, enjoying my sunday and my mucus filled solitude when the doorbell rings. now this is not albania, where doorbells ring all the day long without notification and if guests call to notify they’ll pay you a visit, you actually think that: A) they are snotty two shoes B)somebody died and they want to tell you in person. here, people let you know before they drop by so when the doorbell rings it is either A) a jehovai’s witness, B) a Cable Salesman, C) the Avon lady. but it might also be my mom who often forgets her keys.
So i get up and go down, and lo! and behold! it is two Jehovai’s witnesses, with tupperware in their hands, stepping on the cable bill which my neigbor must have mistakenly received again. i know i how loony i must look with my psychedelic bathrobe and hair a la shrubbery, and i play it up some more, just for the looks in their faces. then they greet me, in Albanian!!!!! and bravely try to strike up a conversation.
are you kidding me? Albo Jehovais in the middle of frigging Jersey? what is the world coming down to?
dejected, debilitated and defeated, i go back upstairs and take my place on the generous couch, still trying to digest what i saw. first, there were albo telemarketers. then there were albo dating sites. and now Jehovai’s witnesses? why God, why?