(Untitled)

[willbailey]

I can't breathe. My right gland seems very anxious to meet my left one. My right ear seems pissed off about that. My apartment is mysteriously vacillating between 100 degrees and 20 degrees.

I think I might be dying.

Comments

[jokes_n_snuff]

You aren't dying.
Unless you give whatever it is to me, and then you'll be dying a different kind of death.

[willbailey]

You don't know that for sure.

You're mean. You're supposed to be offering me soup and those soft tissues and stuff.

[jokes_n_snuff]

Would some dribbles of orange juice and a roll of toilet paper work? I need to go grocery shopping.

[willbailey]

Not so much, no. You should do your shopping tonight and bring me things. Like the good sister that you are.

[andreawyatt]

Will. I can hear you coughing from here. Go home.

(Said with compassion. Really.)

[willbailey]

No, no. I'm okay. And I'm not letting anyone enter my office - to keep the germ spreading to a minimum.

[andreawyatt]

The germ spreading is not so much my concern - remember, my kids are in daycare, which is basically just a festering pool of every germ known to man. It's more that you're going to cough up a lung and die, except nobody will know because you've hermetically sealed yourself in your office.

Do you see how quiet it is around here? It's fine, go home, go to bed. I'd offer to make you chicken soup, but I've been told that it actually makes the illness worse.

[willbailey]

What a pleasant image. Will you at least put a little plaque outside of my office after my body has been discovered?

I think there are very few things that could make me feel worse than I do right now. Anyway, I'm going. I have my laptop and phone if you need anything.

[ucbfeminista]

Please, please, please, stay on the House side. Also in Andy's office, not, you know, anywhere near Sam's.

I really can't afford to get sick right now.

Also, feel better.

[willbailey]

Damn. I forgot to give Sam a hug on my way home.

I kid, I kid. I went directly home, no passage of Sam's office.

Thanks.

[ucbfeminista]

But did you collect two hundred dollars?

Anytime. Get some rest.

[goldfishboy]

I don't think you're dying, Will - I have to agree with the women on this.

Although, I also have to agree that you need to /go home/.

Take care of yourself.

[willbailey]

Seeing as you may have been the person that infected me, you should be taking this more seriously.

I'm home. And clearly delirious. Going back to sleep now.

[goldfishboy]

Erm, no. I am perfectly healthy, at least physically.

[mandyvillian]

I know you were joking. I don't care. You can't die on me, kid.

[willbailey]

We'll see if the fates allow it. I am kidding...but I do feel like death warmed over.

[mandyvillian]

Honey, I'm hormonal as all freaking get out. You have to give me adequate time to prepare for disturbing hypotheticals.

If I could be there, I would be there. I'll--

Get better. Take time off. Listen to your boss. If she goes all slave driver on you, hell, I'll pay you. (Or -- no. Not. That could be extremely bad.) She's apparently fair and generous, though, so I don't see the need arising, but-- do me a favor. Do us a favor. Take care of yourself.

If you don't, I'll kick your ass. And I'm wearing Jimmy Choos with spikes.