Sick, Spiraling, and Stalked in the Steam Room: A Plague Diary
Last week I told you I was sick. I had no idea that was just the prequel. This week? I’m recording from the depths of hell (aka my bed), 8 days into what I’m calling the medieval bucolic plague. I’m talking no sense of smell, no voice, no will to live. We’re spiraling, but we’re spiraling chic.
In this unhinged episode, I unpack:
💀 Getting sick again post–San Miguel destination wedding
💀 The gala I barely survived (spoiler: Cipriani, Indian boomers, generational wealth energy)
💀 Why Wise Honey BBQ chips gave me an existential headache
💀 My ongoing rage toward my boomer dad for being Patient…
The skinny
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