First, an addendum to yesterday’s post. A germ-conscious friend on Facebook pointed out that I was a naughty girl for going to the gym and sauna while I was sick and spreading my germs around. Good point!

I am always cringing at other peoples’ lack of germ awareness, especially here. But it seems I have been a germ hypocrite (would that be a germocrite?!), and even though I’m not exactly coughing on the baked goods, I am still guilty of the same crime. I guess I figure what’s the point, since it’s all germ-infested anyway, but it’s true — I should be more aware of where I spread my ickies. Thanks for the head’s up on that one.

Good news is, I am finally feeling much better. After writing to you yesterday morning, I was still feeling lethargic and drained, and even the effort of taking a shower was enough to send me back to bed for a good twenty minutes before I could muster the energy to finish getting dressed. Gabe plied me with soup and liquids, and under his gentle ministrations I was soon feeling more energetic, enough so that I could walk down to the local pharmacy with him to pick up some more aspirin.

I have to say — I still can’t get over the fact that picking up more supplies is a simple matter of a ten-minute stroll around the neighborhood: first to get medicine, then juice at the corner store, then the bakery for fresh, hot bread. We certainly couldn’t do that at home.

Of course I was thoroughly spent after that, and took a long nap in hopes that I could manage an outing to the movies later in the afternoon. Adventurous, I know! The furthest and longest I’d been away from home in nearly a week. How sad is that. I awoke from my nap feeling even better than before, and gladly changed out of my sick clothes (resisting the urge to burn them afterward) into something more presentable.

The day had turned sunny and almost warm, enough so that we could both take our jackets off while waiting for our friend at the metro stop. Even with this improvement in the weather though, the theater was completely packed, with long lines for every ticket window. It took us 20 minutes to get our tickets, by which point the movie was already starting, but luckily everyone was seeing Alice (I was jealous of their spiffy glasses!), so we still got good seats.

After last weekend’s serious movie, we decided it was time to balance ourselves out by seeing The Wolfman, which has a much better title in Portuguese: O Lobishomem. It was of course terrible, but in a way that I could handle: blood and guts (literally) flying everywhere; stilted, cliched dialogue; and even a really bad makeup job on O Lobishomem himself. It was the perfect B movie, with no pretensions otherwise.

I loved it, and sat there cackling to myself and cheering as people got ripped apart and beheaded — yes, I am turning into my mother, who has always embarrassed us by laughing out loud during action movies. It was supremely satisfying, and to me, way better than the Oscar-nominated film we saw last weekend. Told you I’m a heathen — or, to put it in a better light, I’m a sucker for story. Forget that insight into the human condition crap. Give me story, people, story! Even if it’s cliched and terribly written!

Once we got out, I was wasted and ready to go home, especially after we’d fought our way through the crowds back down to the Metro. But I was upright and out of the flat for nearly three full hours, which at this point is a record. One that I’m hoping to improve on today, if the weather would only cooperate…!