. 6am. The sound of light rain. The left side my throat is raw and it hurts to swallow. I get up and feed Ani.
. I bike to work in a half daze. My face and hands are dripping with rain, my leggings are soaked. These are my choices.
. The return to work looks like 300+ emails and a deadline. The busy day takes my attention away from how I’m feeling, but when I stop I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Ginger-turmeric tea feels likes self-care.
. I leave the bike on campus and walk home. I like the way the rain sounds when it hits my raincoat. tap tap tap.
. The garbage bins need to be pulled to the curb. It’s been almost a month since they were last emptied. It takes all my strength the push them up the hill of the driveway. Now I understand why I felt so puny during yesterday's workout.
. The apartment is sticky with humidity. The aroma of the bone broth is comforting. 24 more hours. I boil water and gather the lemon and honey for a toddy.
. She is playing phone tag with the cardiologist. There is a card in the mail painted with wildflowers.
. “Ultimately, the only way to achieve meaning and a sense of importance in one’s life is through a rejection of alternatives, a narrowing of freedom, a choice of commitment to one place, one belief, or one person.” ~ The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck
. I wash the dishes and watch the sky turn to pink and wonder if they would want to go camping.
. Starve a fever, stuff a cold.