I've had a series of health problems lately which have deprioritized blogging. Nothing too serious -- don't be alarmed -- the most recent of which is a hellacious head cold. (Did you know that with enough drugs you can sleep for twelve hours even with your sinuses completely stuffed up?)
But whenever I get sick like this, it gets me thinking about being a kid. When I'd get really sick when I was in high school, my dad would trudge out to the store and get a fresh batch of cold meds, boxes of Kleenex, and cans of soup. He'd never tell me he was going to the video store before he left, and somehow I was always so miserable that I was surprised in spite of past occurences to see him walk back in the door with VHS cases. And he would always rent me the same two movies -- Robin Hood: Men in Tights and Independence Day. They became, in my mind, the perfect films to watch and rewatch when you're sick and can't even concentrate well enough to read a book.
I'm heartily considering planting myself in front of the television today with my tea and my soup and my Kleenex. But I haven't yet decided what to watch. Sadly, the video stores around me have all closed up shop so I'll have to make do with what's on the shelf at home.