Oh blah. Here it is, the first day of the film festival, and I’ve come down with something, and so I am very reluctant to leave the apartment. It’s kind of funny, because in the past, it was not unknown for me to get a wee bit sick during the middle of the festival, which usually coincided with my birthday; but here we are at the beginning of the festival — which, this year, coincides with my birthday — and I’m under the weather already. I used to chalk it up to the erratic schedule I kept during the first week of the festival — going to movies all day, rushing around between theatres, missing sleep, eating food of questionable dietary worth, etc., etc. — but now I think my birthday may be the problem.
Point of clarification: My birthday isn’t today. It’s Saturday.
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