I’m taking my puffer and the codeine-filled cough syrup every four hours as directed (I’m typically a rule follower by nature, although I never repeat in my lather and rinse routine) even though cherry-flavored anything makes me gag (except for Nibs because they really basically just taste like sugar plastic) but still, I had to leave my cubicle early today in favor of my home office because unlike my cubicle neighbours, my dog doesn’t care when I go into coughing fits that last a good eight minutes and only end with me praying out loud to the vomit-stopping gods. And not those stupid rainbow barfing snapchat gods either. I was actually pretty annoyed because my outfit today was on fleek, whatever that is. My bestie even called me a hot piece of {insert less than family friend word here} when I ran into school to pick up my daughter, but that’s because she wasn’t around for a coughing fit.

Basically I’m a vision right now. Not contagious though, if you’re worried. Which is why I opted against the surgical mask. I have, however, taped up my torso where I cracked some ribs…coughing. I once remember laughing at my brother after he cracked a rib on a rollercoaster ride at Six Flags. “WHO DOES THAT?!” I remember cry-laughing. Well, all I know is that I’m not going on all rollercoasters any time soon. It’s all Boy In The Plastic Bubble (The John Travolta movie, not the Seinfeld version) for me.

Laughing is the worst right now, so deciding to record the very first episode of my podcast, Without A Paddle, was maybe not the wisest of choices. I knew it was going to be funny — but I didn’t know that I’d be laughing for three hours straight and could have used some depends undergarments. Wow. Who knew that when I emailed my new neighbors to see if they wanted to join me in a podcast about Dawson’s Creek (Get it now? Creek? Without a paddle? My wit is astounding, really) that it was going to be THIS good? (Okay, maybe I kind of knew). Everyone watched the pilot and we discussed. We were about an hour in when we realized that much was going to get stuck on the cutting room floor since we hadn’t even gotten past discussing how Netflix changed the theme song. Also, I had a really hard time not talking about Dawson’s forehead (fivehead). We didn’t just talk about Dawson’s Creek, of course. Somehow we talked about everything, and the night ended in us watching videos of ’80s rap songs. AND RECREATING THEM.

It’s going to be good, I swear.

I was asked to name my top five favourite comedies. Whoa. That’s a really hard question because firstly, what do you consider a comedy? Something that makes you laugh? Well, since I’m the queen of laughing at the most inappropriate times (Think: during the symphony and the SAT), almost everything makes me laugh. Is it something that you want to watch when you are in a bad mood? Something that never gets old after 8,000 viewings? Something with jokes that just land and land and land? Is Wes Anderson considered comedy because YES. Coming to America. The Royal Tenenbaums. Ghostbusters. Airplane! The Princess Bride. Anchorman. Rushmore. Groundhog Day. Anything with Seth Rogen’s laugh. Anything that’s connected to Judd Apatow and/or Leslie Mann. Is John Hughes considered comedy? If yes, then Ferris Bueller and Sixteen Candles are right up there. See what I’m saying is…this is hard. Because I unabashedly love Austin Powers: Goldmember and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Judge if you will—I giggle like a fool. Also, Steve Martin is a golden god and I love him in everything starting with The Jerk.

Top five funny movies cannot be done.

Maybe we’ll talk about it next week on Without a Paddle.

You know, once I stop coughing.