I still haven’t heard back from the doctor’s office about my bloodwork, so I don’t technically know I have mono, but I’m completely positive I have it because I have basically all the symptoms. Except loss of appetite.

I never get loss of appetite.

I spent the weekend mostly hanging out at Alex’s, by which I mean shifting from Alex’s dining room table to Alex’s living room couch to Alex’s bed and back, mainly eating cookies and patting Ted* and watching Six Feet Under.

The highlight was when Alex made me guacamole. He is not a very good cook (he once burned bacon and destroyed my spatula), but he is a master of dips.

*Which is a sort-of joke, because it sounds dirty and then you click on the link and realize Ted is Alex’s dog, and just has a person name. It’s not really even a joke, but I’m tired. It’s a monojoke. Petting dogs is therapeutic, though.