sick

So I went to bed hoping that when I woke up I would be better. But I was up and down all night. First I was freezing, and then I would feel like I was burning up. At 4 am I had a fever of almost 102F. Finally at 5:30 I fell into some kind of sleep; I woke again at 7. Y. is coming by with some advil. I have none, for the fever and for my incredibly sore throat. And I doubt that I could walk to the drugstore without wanting to die. So today, all my plans will have to wait. I will lie on the sofa, call the doctor, and hope that I get better fast. I had planned to drive to Pennsylvania tomorrow to see my nephews, but unless I feel substantially better I will have to cancel.

While my mind was racing last night, I thought of significant lies that I've been told. Why wasn't I more angry when I realized I had been lied to? Is it my faulty self-esteem that causes me to endure such things without a sense of outrage? Because now, for the time being at least, I feel mad.

This morning the sun shone through the silk I have hung over my window in an attempt to darken the room. The sun wakes me up too easily unless I block it out.