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Sick at Home
By all means use sometimes to be alone.
Salute thyself: see what thy soul doth wear.
-- George Herbert
Tuesday, December 14, 1999
One year ago: Some Guys
I woke up in the middle of the night, last night. I remembered that I'd parked near a house that is being renovated. They have those temporary no-parking signs on saw horses arranged in front. This wouldn't have been a problem in the normal way of things, since I leave for work long before the no-parking would have been in effect. But I'd decided not to go to work this day!
So I pulled on my velour pants, pulled my jacket over my head, and put on my shoes, and sallied forth, omitting my contact lenses. It was beautifully cool and quiet outside, at three in the morning. No traffic anywhere. I walked around the block to my car. Someone had moved the sawhorse by my car to be in front of the house being fixed up, instead of the one next to it! So I decided that I didn't need to move my car after all. I returned to my bed of coughing and sleep.
* * * * * * * *
I'd stopped on the way home last night and got cold provisions. For some reason, I knew that I would have a craving for chips and salsa, so that's what I got! And that's what I ate, at various times during the day. The crunchiness (Tostitos White Corn Bite Size) and heat (Safeway Deli Cantina Style Mild, 'cause I'm not macho for the spicy food) just hit the spot. I think I might have had some ice cream, too. (Disclaimer: I'm writing this at several days time distance.) I backed off on the medications, only taking the day-quil equivalents one at a time, and increasing the interval between. My cough is racking me with horrid paroxysms. I worked on the Santa Rampage photos and my journal entries for that day and Sunday, and dozed on and off.
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