I’m sorry for the continued lack of blogging. The illusion that I was getting better on Wednesday was just that — a pleasant, cheery self-delusion right up there with “the government cares about the little people” or “I’m sure to win the next Powerball drawing.”
It was back to bed without eating on Thursday, then apathy-on-the-couch yesterday.
Today it’s safer to say I’m on the real road to recovery, but I’m wobbly, weak, and have lost several more pounds. So this time I’m damn well not going to get ambitious and jinx the situation. It’s idleness, soup, Michael Connelly books, and Harry Potter movies for me all weekend.
I will toss you some links randomly collected during the week’s lucid moments as soon as I finish this post. And a big thanks to jc2k for a wealth of dog-rescuing-somebody-or-something stories in comments while I’ve been out of it.
My advice to you all: Don’t catch this thing. Especially don’t catch this thing if you already have fragile lungs, as I do.
Well, dang, Claire. Sorry to hear you’re still feeling knocked out. Keep taking care of you.
Sounds like you managed to catch the flu bug that’s going around. It’s the same bug that put my 40 year old nephew in the hospital when it turned into pneumonia, so be careful.
It’s like in the airplane, when the flight attendant tells you to put your oxygen mask on first.
We aren’t out of air, yet.