I find it nearly impossible to do anything mostly because a 40 hour work week takes everything I have to give and there is nothing left no energy to write or to make wonderful things like homemade bread or to dream but I am trying to be useful and productive blahblahblah.
This week was feverish and there were chills and nausea and headaches and my knees and ankles are still jacked up and I spent my day off sleeping and I was too tired to even watch anything on netflix or whatever.
Today was better. I made a short trip to the store and I made sandwiches and a fresh pitcher of iced tea and I am reading In Cold Blood and I am reading Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. This has been a weird summer because I have to stay out of the sun. I am grateful for all my books today. I have become an indoor cat.