Sunday, 2 October:

Suzanne woke up sick this morning. And boy it isn't just the sniffles. I guess we should have prepared for more public content meaning more likely to catch a cold. We spent the entire day in, as I demanded she get lots of rest and she was more than happy to oblige. I spent most of the day playing Vampire the Masquerade, as the stoopid internet isn't working in the lobby and I am not keen to leave her alone. I did go out and get comfort food for Suzanne, you know hoops (spaghetti ohs) and stuff to make a grilled cheese sandwich. When Suzanne woke up from her nap, she was eternally grateful, though I have to say I can't master something as simple as a grilled cheese to save my life. I don't know why, but if I get the bread right, the cheese isn't melted, I get the cheese melted, and the bread is burnt. What mystic rite must I perform to perfect grilled cheese?