So it’s the 31st. Today was hard. I thought I was getting better and I tired to behave as if I were but I got worse as the day went by. I hadn’t eaten a solid real meal for ten days so I cooked one and couldn’t eat it. I nibbled a bit and threw it out. Terrible waste of food. I’m running a fever again, can’t stay up to the witching hour. Enough!
My time is up.
Tomorrow I will pretend it’s a new year and a new blog and I won’t be here.
I forgot the reason I liked this week was that I wrote my thank-you letters ad got caught up on the tall ends of Christmas. But I’m sick. I forget when I’m in bed. I can still sleep.
My aches and pains were not organic as they are now. They were annoying depressing nagging dragging and constant but I could think. Whatever character i was playing in my sleep was active and making Plans. Last night/this morning she was the queen of a medieval forest village and she invented blood transfusions to help some of her men get stronger. So when she woke she was all set to do some real work. Then she got out of bed. It took her over an hour struggling with a mop trying to clean a bit of floor. The mop was TIRED and it ACHED.
HEY, that’s me and it hurts.
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