Coffee: Bolivian Medium-Dark, Trader Joe’s Brand
I’m sick. It’s not terrible: my head feels stiff and my throat itches. Other than that, I’m golden.
But still, I’m sick.
We had work today. It was delayed an hour. It started snowing on the drive. The road disappeared and it was like an expedition. You couldn’t keep the white off your windshield. Along the road, there were three or four cars that had run off into the trees. Each one was partnered by a cop car. The lights were Christmas trees as you came up to them through the blizzard. And in all of this I wasn’t nervous – even when the car kept slipping – and maybe that’s just because I was too sick to think about it.
Here I am. People have a habit of making it through things. It’s the greatest wonder in the world, human vigor. I’m drinking orange juice. The house is warm. I’ll be going to sleep after I write this. Night night.
Novel Count: (on hiatus while I recover from this cold)
Currently Reading: Autumn, Ali Smith; Cherry, Nico Walker
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being sick feels like you’re wearing someone else’s glassesMegan Boyle, Selected Unpublished Blog Posts of a Mexican Panda Express Employee