Tuesday, 14 January 2003 | Fever inventions

Would you mind running to the store—I don't know which one would have it—and picking up one of those digital thermometers for me? But first, on your way out, it would be great if you could make me some tea, and fill up that fuzzy hot water bottle, the one that looks something like a bumble bee but is actually a tiger duck. Hmm...now I'm kind of warm. I hope I'm not being too demanding—but could you bring me the cat and the remote, and maybe pick up some juice while you're out there in the 20-something-degree weather? Thank you, that's very nice of you. My fever invents some really generous people.

Earlier I went out to the grocery store on my own—before I knew I needed a thermometer—to pick up some food fifteen minutes before the store closed. I'm currently in the middle of reading Fast Food Nation, which means I'm newly paranoid and now turning jars and boxes around in my hands to read the fine print on every item I put in my basket, but this time I was racing the clock, with a cramp in my neck, a consuming fatigue, and a hundred layers of clothing. Which reminds me of that bad game show in the 80s, Supermarket Sweep, except that I was inspecting the items before I adopted them, and I was moving through the store with the grace of Frankenstein. Despite my exertion, I haven't eaten anything since I got back, thanks to my imaginative and anorexic fever.