It's a very strange thing being knocked at random out of normal life, which relies upon a great deal of fortitude, and sequestered to the house and the couch, where I don't know how to watch tv other than sports, and I don't know how to relax, and I don't have the sense to make tea or eat crackers. I'm beginning to learn, however, because apparently if you don't do the above, you wake up incredibly more sick. If you forget to take painkillers at regular intervals, or to use your inhaler as directed, you will feel rather deathful.
I've been under the weather since early-ish October. But I just keep on moving, you know? Because that's what I've always had to do. I can live without food or sleep. I can teach even if the room is spinning (who says you don't learn any valuable skills in grad school?). I can put my mind elsewhere. It's just what I do.
Except, apparently that's hard to keep up if you can't breathe, so here I am, pondering the spaciousness of my house, and the fact that somehow I have a house, and knowing that some time this morning I need to get to the grocery store for some produce, and then make a lazy display of myself until the kids get back from visiting their father.
I'm great at taking care of sick people. Even sick pets! But I am physically restraining myself (overstatement) from doing work right now. When I was a wee bit delirious I kept making promises (to whom, I am not certain) that I will take better care of myself from now on. Like, really try to be healthy, or whatever.
Meanwhile, my little Saint Monica has been getting a bunch of pre-orders on Amazon, which has brought me endless amazement and thankfulness from my sick bed. I spend so much more time editing and commenting on other people's poems than I do writing or pondering my own. It feels almost unnatural or wrong to think about my own work before the work of others.
I think I sense a theme here.
Anyway, please send me some lungtastic vibes. When I make it to the grocery store, I will buy healthy things, and I will consume them. Oh, and the above is a hyperbolic segment of my Japanese maple, not a cross-section of my lung, but it sure feels that way lately.
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