If anyone was considering getting me a get well soon gift, forget the flowers and chip-in on a one-time only house cleaning service. I figure once the laundry, bathroom, dishes and vacuuming get done, I might be able to face another minute alone in my apartment. After spending three days festering in my bed/on my couch with just enough energy to recognize how much my apartment desperately needs a once-over, without enough energy to actually do anything about it, I'm about ready to lose it! And the cat hair, my gawd, the cat hair! How is an asthmatic with bronchitis supposed to get clear lungs with enough cat hair on the carpet to clone 10 more cats from the fur of just one fuzzy-pant wearing kitty?
And if you really want to go all-out, you can hire a gay cleaning service, a-la last season of The L Word, when Helena hires "Lez Clean Up" for Alice and her scary Dana shrine:
“Jesus, Bloody Christ, Alice! Have you completely lost your mind? It’s a fucking shrine, Alice! A bordering on psychotic serial killer obsessive type shrine.”
But I promise I have no scary shrines in my place, unless of course you count the Elvis-themed bathroom (Hey, he died on the shitter, what better place to pay homage?).