Marcel Winatschek

Sick

I’m completely sick. The full package—congestion, cough, voice destroyed, probably running a fever but I was too lazy to actually check. So I’m half-dead in bed watching Pearl Harbor, which is what you do when you’re this wiped out. At least I know how it ends: Japan loses.

My girlfriend’s in Freiburg at her family’s place, but she’s back tomorrow. That’s when the bed days start—though to be honest, nothing much changes for me in that category anyway. Still, it’s better with her here.

Right now I’m just watching TV, sentimental piano music keeping me company. When you’re sick like this, everything gets softer. You’re not really present enough to care about much beyond the pillow.