La Puta Rona strikes again, unbelievable. This makes it four times that she has had the cruelest timing! Bish! I think I got it from Bibendum last Monday—it was his revenge for me talking smack about the Michelin Guide awards last week: no road trip for you, tablehopper. Ha! So rude.
Over the weekend, I pretty much lived in my bed and did some serious movie bingeing over here: it started with the Faye (as in Dunaway) documentary, which led me to rewatch Mommie Dearest, and then Barfly, which took me back to living and dive bar-hopping in Hollywood in the early '90s.
Whatever, Miss Rona, get the eff outta here, begone. One big consolation of getting summer COVID out of the way is I can now attend busy food events and packed dance floors with impunity!
I'm fine, I turned the corner on Sunday, but am just tired and cranky. (I am definitely taking a nap after I hit 'send' on this thing.) This round of 'rona was like a lousy but thankfully short-lived cold compared to that gross crud I had a few months ago.
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