Comfort Food: Buttered Noodles and Carrie Bradshaw

It's four in the afternoon and I'm in my pajamas watching Sex and the City for the eleventh-thousandth time. - Way back when Carrie still smoked, Charlotte was with Trey and Miranda's hair was in it's man-phase. 
In about 5 minutes I'll remove the fettuccine I have boiling from the stove and drench it in butter and cheese. 
I am sick. 
Not sick in the I-have-an-unhealthy-obsession-with-cheese-and-HBO way (which I also am), but sick in the runny-nose-balloon-in-my-head way. 

As I lay here guzzling diet orange soda, I realize that when you're feeling this useless, you need comfort food for body and mind. 
Guilty pleasures need to be indulged, in the forms of carbohydrates, cheese and cheesy TV.

I discovered SATC at 17, and for the last 8 years (holy shit has it been that long?!) it has been my go-to comfort show. I know every episode backwards and forwards. I'm soothed by the cosmo-consuming banter, the tumultuous relationships, the fashion, the sexual puns, the shoe obsessions and more. 

Even though some of Carrie's outfits are hideous, she's totally fiscally irresponsible, and every time I hope she won't cheat on Aidan (even though she and Big do belong together) she does, she's my bedside companion. 

Some time soon I'll get off the couch and put my contact lenses in and maybe even bathe.
Some day soon I'll eat a meal consisting of something other than butter and cheese.
And some day I WILL own an official Patricia Field Nameplate Necklace. 

But for now, I will indulge in indulgences, and get carried away.

... And yes I know how cheesy that was.

... Get it? Cheese?

... I need a nap.