Bathroom Monologue: "How are you feeling?" -A well-meaning friend

"How am I feeling? I feel like going to bed until Sunday. At the crack of noon on the holy day I'll order a pizza. Delivery. I'll bribe the deliveryman to come into my house, upstairs, and to set the pizza on my mattress. No matter how heavy a tip he demands, I'll give it to him so long as he leaves the box open, so that I can roll over and gnaw at the pie at will. He'll depart, I'll eat what I assume is one and a half slices before falling asleep - hopefully not face down in cheese, but I make no promises. I'll sleep through Monday, and if Monday is dumb enough to poke through my light-blocking blinds, I will grab it about the throat and throttle it. I'll leave its remains in the pizza box and go back to bed. I will sleep so long and so thoroughly that princes will show up wondering if they're supposed to help wake me. Any who intrude will receive Monday-like throttling. I will only leave the bed once it is so soiled that I can't stand the smell - at which point I'll roll onto the floor and use the carpet as a blanket."