To recap the things that actually happened:
The doctor had me describe my symptoms, then told me that what was wrong with me was wrong with everyone right now, including himself--an upper respiratory infection--and that there was jack shit you could do about it. He prescribed time and a buttload of OTC meds. Robitussin tastes like ass, but I got Sudafed that apparently isn't pseudoephedrine-based, so it hasn't made me all speedy so far. Maybe that's why it isn't actually helping.
A.S.S.S.S.C.A.T. was funny shit, as was Pretty, Pretty Pony. Will Arnett (GOB on Arrested Development) talked at length about drugs, as per audience suggestion, and Amy Poehler, Rachel Dratch, Matt Besser, and Horatio Sanz improvised sketches from his stories. Ian Roberts missed his Southwest flight, preventing it from being a full complement.
We ended up going to see The Real Dirt on Farmer John Saturday night and Match Point on Sunday. Both were enjoyable. Crash I rented far too late to have a fresh opinion on; I've lately read too many mocking, negative reviews, and I'm kind of a sucker for mockery. But I learned some valuable lessons about the racist in all of us, I'm sure. I watched Tarnation Friday night, which was fucked up and kind of like a horror movie, for what it was. Then we got back into Arrested Development with disc 1 of season 2, including the awesome "Afternoon Delight" episode. Come on!
There has been no cat visiting yet. I'm taking the second shift, though I don't know when it starts yet.
Shit. It's time for clothes and work.