In honor of being stranded in Seattle for one more day: you got me again, Delta.

Day 22: January 2

Stay in bed. Or on the couch. Or on the cold floor between the living room and your bedroom. Because the dusty wood feels good on your feverish face.

Oh, and clean your floor. You’ve really fallen down on the job (pun very much intended) lately. Where’s your OCD-perfectionist-type-A persona been hiding?

Don’t admit you have the flu just yet. Tell people it’s some kind of cold or something. But you’re still fine for the party you hosting on Sunday.

Translation:Twenty-five is sleeping on the floor. And being concerned about this only as it relates to your housekeeping habits rather than its larger implications of your life choices.