Home sick from work. And I know exactly which of my colleagues had it too. I remember on Monday someone telling him, “When are you going to give in and just go home?’ He didn’t. Thus infecting us all.

I figure if I rest up though I’ll be in okay shape to go see 007 tonight. I feel better than I did last night. Been pounding vitamins and liquids and soup since last night. Just need rest today. I had already bought tickets for Andy and I on Monday. Gotta make it happen. Gotta see Bond.

We watched a W.C. Fields movie last night and it made me feel better; or at least, more resigned to being sick, more at peace with it. Then while I was asleep I had all these strange dreams. One involved chatting with Robert Downey Jr. on the street and then getting his autograph, and me telling him, “I’m so glad you’re making movies again. What was it like to make Short Cuts with Altman?” In another dream Andy and I were waiting in a very long line at Walgreen’s that barely seemed to be moving. I was waiting in line to pick up money owed me for songwriting royalties (!)

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