Yesterday I felt like crap. I thought I had a too-much-fun hangover. Friday night I was up late on twitter talking books and writing and all things literary. There was no alcohol involved, but there was smoking. Now today, after behaving myself yesterday I should feel better but I don't. If anything I feel worse. I don't remember looking in a mirror yesterday but I did get a glimpse of myself today in passing and it was shocking. I'm almost a ghastly green and have big dark circles under my eyes.
It doesn't help that Cyrus refused to eat his breakfast this morning. Then to make matters worse he refused to take his pills no matter how I hid them or disguised them. And just as his last terrible sore bloomed and then healed a new one is blooming on the side of his nose. He can barely walk, his arthritis and joints are so bad. Maybe all I feel is empathy and maybe I'm not that sick.
The air in Salt Lake is toxic now. We are having an "inversion" where a cold layer of air is stangnating below a warm high. If you're up in the mountains skiing you're warmer than we are down here in the valley floor. Weak sun barely warms the sunroom in the late morning and it's hovering in the very low single digits at night. Ice on trails is not melting with daily trafic on it by the dogs. I'm wearing layers of clothing. Craving hot baths rather than showers, but feel guilty about the amount of water a hot bath takes compared to a quck shower. Still my bones crave the heat, the soaking.
I have a busy week ahead and urgently feel the need to re-edit the second and third chapters of the novel. I may enter the Amazon Breakthrough Novel contest again this year, but I won't kill myself if I just can't meet the deadline. I'm showing the front house this week and have appointments and dates every day.
Inflation, Septaphobia, and the Shock Doctrine
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