Since when do people get the flu in summer? Even the mailman (who is also sick #Anthrax…?) agreed with me: aren’t we supposed to be a little more robust in the summertime? Fresh breezes, sunshine, and afternoon baseball games– do these things mean nothing to the aptitude of my immune system? I’m sick and tired of eating only yogurt and quinoa and going to bed at 9pm.
I’m further distraught that my illness had to fall on this weekend. Of all weekends. This weekend is extremely special. It’s the first weekend of the semester- so I have no work to do. More importantly, it is a four day weekend that is bookended by Canada Day at the start, and America Day (so titled for prosaic balance, but typically referred to as “The Fourth of July”) at the end. This span of time is incredibly significant to me, not only because everyone loves a parade, but as a Blue Jays fan, my reality exists somewhere between these two celebrations (a Baseball state of mind).
Although I may not be staggering from pub to pub for four days straight, nothing is going to stop me from eating a Fenway Frank on July 4th. I am so determined to make it to Boston to see the Jays this Monday, that I am convincing myself that I am getting better. Guess what? It’s working.
I am #sofreakingexcited to go to Fenway, on July 4th of all days, to cheer for my one and only Blue Jays. I will surely die happy, because if the Chinatown bus doesn’t kill me, the Red Sox fans probably will. Not to encourage stereotypes, but I’ve heard…. certain things…
Which is why I think it’s best I leave my flag at home.
After all, it will be America Day, and we don’t want to be too provocative.