Phlegmatic

My apart­ment cur­rent­ly looks like what most peo­ple expect a bachelor’s apart­ment to look like. It is in post-sick­ness dis­as­ter recov­ery mode right now. That means that I’ve picked up all of the sop­ping hand­ker­chiefs and thrown away all the snot­ty tis­sue. I’ve yet to wash all of the sticky with dried orange juice dish­es or throw out the toast rinds and coag­u­lat­ed chick­en noo­dle soup. Clothes, blan­kets, socks are strewn about, a pic­ture is awry because I bumped into it, and for some unknown rea­son, there is a pil­low in the mid­dle of the kitchen floor. I guess I know what I’m doing this week­end. That’s right. Cough­ing up phlegm that is so dense it sinks.